


Supplementations and Upgrades

by wilddragonflying



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Body Horror, Buff FemShep, Custom Shepard (Mass Effect), Earthborn (Mass Effect), F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired By Tumblr, Mass Effect 2 AU, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Post - Mass Effect 1, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Ruthless (Mass Effect), Tall FemShep, bc yknow there were some side effects to bringing Shep back from the dead, it's important to me that you all know that Rochelle is big and buff, mild body horror, she's a vanguard damn it she likes the front lines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: Rochelle Shepard dies above a planet in Council space, choking on nothing after an unknown alien ship destroyed her home.She wakes on in a lab - but what if the story went differently?What if it wasn't a Cerberus lab she woke up in?What if she woke on Rannoch?
Relationships: Female Shepard/Liara T'Soni, Female Shepard/Liara T'Soni/Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Female Shepard/Tali'Zorah nar Rayya
Comments: 53
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is inspired by a wonderful [tumblr post](https://ishouldgay.tumblr.com/post/642501229950500864/garrus-dragonkingofthestars-garrus-mass) that gave me MASSIVE muse, and I decided to go ahead and run with it and see what I come up with!

It’s _really_ fucking cold.

Okay, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration, but it is still way colder than any human would like, so Rochelle thinks that she can be excused for -

“Subject is conscious.”

Rochelle gasps, tenses, and the ensuing mechanical cacophony isn’t reassuring in the least, and then there’s something cold and metal pressed against her fucking _temple_ -

* * *

She wakes slower this time, but there’s -

“Subject is conscious. Repairs ninety percent completed, subject must be unconscious while final calibrations are completed.”

Rochelle’s unconscious before she can finish thinking, _What fucking re-_

* * *

Rochelle blinks.

The ceiling above her is smooth grey metal, and there’s a gentle humming - Not beside her, exactly, but _around_ her. It’s mechanical, electrical, but she can’t place it.

Frowning, Rochelle rolls her head to the side, following a seam in the ceiling - and then she freezes when a door slides open, soundless, and a geth unit steps through the door.

“Shepard-Commander,” it says, staying by the door and not approaching. “You are awake.”

Rochelle eyes it warily, her gaze catching on what looks like a _piece of her fucking armor_ on its chest plate. “Yeah,” she says after a long silence. “Where the fuck am I?”

“You are in a geth facility,” the geth says.

“What day is it?” Rochelle demands - and then flinches when something flickers in the corner of her vision.

The plates around the edge of the geth’s face move, and it steps forward. “Is Shepard-Commander’s chronometer not working?”

“My _what?_ ”

“Chronometer,” it repeats. “A device used to tell the standard galactic time as well as relative planetary - “

“I know what a fucking chronometer is,” Rochelle snaps, pushing herself upright, registering her hand against a metallic surface, no padding anywhere - _Of course there’s no padding, it’s a fucking geth machine shop,_ she thinks, in a tiny corner of her brain that’s currently running around hysterically in the little cage she’s shoved it in while she deals with this mindfuck. “Why do you think I should have one? I don’t have my omnitool - “

“Shepard-Commander will no longer need an omnitool,” the geth says, still approaching the - bed isn’t the right word, it’s a _slab_ she’s sitting on - the slab, and approaching a terminal next to it. “You should be able to access all functions from an omnitool as the geth do, now.”

There’s no IV lines, nothing connecting Rochelle to the slab, so there’s nothing holding her back from lunging at the geth, slamming it up against the wall. It’s unarmed - or at least, it doesn’t have a gun, which is a pity, but Rochelle distantly registers the sound of creaking metal beneath her hands, pinning its arms to the wall. “What the _fuck_ did you sick bastards do to me?” she hisses.

The plates around the geth’s face - eye, _whatever_ \- shifts, and its head tilts. “The geth do not get sick, nor are there geth bast - “

Rochelle pulls it back, and slams it against the wall again hard enough to leave a dent. “What. The _hell._ Happened to me?” she snarls. “Why am I here, in a _fucking_ geth facility?”

“We recovered the body of Shepard-Commander, defeater of Sovereign and first human Spectre, after her ship was destroyed by an unknown alien assailant,” the geth answers, seemingly unconcerned with the damage to itself or the wall. “It has been one year, three months, one week, and five days since our arrival at the dreadnought and the commencement of your resurrection.”

Rochelle’s a goddamn professional, her grip doesn’t slacken from where it’s far-too-tight around crumpled metal, even as her mind whirls. “My fucking _body?_ ” She remembers the attack, remembers the lights and the fuck-off huge ship, the alarms on the _Normandy,_ the crew rushing to escape pods, shoving Liara and Tali into one, getting Joker -

Screaming metal, something colliding with her back, a strange hissing noise and then the air leaving her helmet.

“Shepard-Commander was deceased when this unit recovered her body,” the geth says, and Rochelle suddenly _really_ hates its stupid emotionless voice, the way it’s talking about her like some damn science experiment.

“Then what?” she grits out. “What happened next?”

“We brought Shepard-Commander’s body to our most advanced ship, to bring Shepard-Commander to Rannoch.”

That brings Rochelle up short in a way nothing else has. “ _Rannoch?_ ”

“Yes. Our best medical facilities are on Rannoch; we have maintained and upgraded the facilities that the Creators left behind - “

“When you chased them from their goddamn planet,” Rochelle snaps, trying to make sense of the fact that she’s the first organic to set foot on Rannoch in centuries, and she’s only here because this geth unit _took her corpse_.

“The Creators left us no choice, but we are not here to debate history with Shepard-Commander.”

“Then what the hell are you here for?”

“Diagnostics.”

Rochelle blinks. “Diagnostics?”

The geth tilts its head, in a move not unlike the dogs Rochelle knew in Detroit. “Shepard-Commander’s body was heavily damaged, and your internal systems required supplementation.”

“Sup - Supplementation?” Rochelle grits out, and then risks a glance down -

And feels like she should be going distinctly light-headed at the sight of the lights that follow her veins, highlighting her skeleton. She looks like a fucking _husk,_ just with more flesh. but she isn't light-headed, her pulse stays perfectly, _mechanically_ steady, and she can still think clearly in a way that isn't just her training and her experience, and what did they _do to her?_

“This unit recovered Shepard-Commander’s body as quickly as it could, but there was irreparable damage, and we kept the body from deteriorating further as we traveled to Rannoch.”

“Where you turned me into a goddamned _abomination!_ ” Rochelle shouts, pushing away from the geth so that she can stumble back, try to find a mirror or _something_ to see the full extent of what they’ve done to her, that - She whirls, hand clenching into a fist, and glares at the geth. “Am I even still human?” she demands. “Or did you - fucking _clone_ me, make me in a test tube?”

“This unit was present for every operation,” the geth says, like that’s supposed to be _reassuring._ “Shepard-Commander did not come from a test tube. The flash-freeze of vacuum preserved Shepard-Commander’s brain, and thus her memory and personality. Shepard-Commander is still Shepard-Commander, hero of the Citadel, defeater of Saren and Sovereign.”

“Don’t use those titles,” Rochelle hisses. “I fought the geth, I lost count of how many of you I _ripped apart,_ and now I’m supposed to owe you my life?”

“Geth do not hold debts,” the unit says. “We did not resuscitate Shepard-Commander for a debt. We resuscitated Shepard-Commander for the galaxy.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rochelle makes a frustrated noise. “And _why are you wearing a piece of my armor?_ ”

The geth’s face plates shift, almost like it’s blinking. “There was a hole. It required patching.”

“So you _used my armor?_ ”

“There was a hole. It required patching.”

Rochelle buries her face in her hands and indulges in a one long, loud _scream._


	2. Chapter 2

Rochelle watches the sun set over Rannoch, and rubs one hand absently over the center of her chest, just over her breastbone - over the place where she can feel, very faintly, the mechanical thrum of the device that keeps her heart beating. Apparently that had been one of the ‘supplementations’ that the geth - who _really_ needed a fucking name - had told her about. Her heart had atrophied, despite their best attempts to keep it from doing so, and they had only been able to regenerate so much of it. It worked, and could function without the regulatory device, but without the device, she’d never run, never be able to handle a rush of adrenaline.

They’d also reinforced her skeleton; they hadn’t exactly _coated_ it in metal, like that one mutant in the classic _X-Men_ comics, but they’d provided a - frame. It gave her extra strength, extra resilience; Rochelle could probably drop from the top of Alliance HQ, back on Earth, and not break a single bone, now. 

Something flashes at the corner of her vision, and Rochelle barely keeps herself from flinching, still unused to the digital enhancements. The geth had managed to, somehow, install a - a _mini-platform_ in her head. They called their ‘bodies’ mobile platforms for the consensus, so that each geth wasn’t an individual, but many - _Huh; ‘we are legion,’ maybe that’s a good name -_ and they’d installed a link to the geth collective in her head.

All for the express purpose of defeating the Reapers.

 _That_ had thrown Rochelle for a loop, when the geth who’d first spoke to her - Legion, yeah, she was gonna roll with that name, better than ‘the geth’ - had told her that was what the geth had resurrected her for, had spent almost a year and a half working on a single organic for. It had said that the geth collective had agreed that Rochelle was the one who needed to unite the galaxy, that no other organic could do it, and that the Reapers must be stopped. When Rochelle had pointed out that whole clusterfuck with Saren, Legion had told her that the geth had made a _mistake,_ and that the majority now believed working with the Reapers would be wrong; it would leave the geth at the top of the order of things, but what they’d gain would be tainted Reaper technology, not something the geth earned for themselves. 

Rochelle frowns a little at the memory, taking in the last rays of sunlight settling over Rannoch, retreating slowly across the landscape. The geth… weren’t at all like she’d thought they would be, here on what had become their homeworld, just as much as it had been the quarians’. They weren’t militaristic, they weren’t just in a constant state of hibernation, when the mobile platforms weren’t needed to wage war. They just… lived their lives. There were always platforms active, roaming the landscape, maintaining buildings and technology, even improving it, in a lot of cases. They didn’t farm for themselves, but they _did_ keep the livestock that the quarians had left behind alive, and they cultivated the land for that use, and kept the fields which had once grown food for the quarians in good condition. Rochelle had asked Legion once, when she’d ventured out with her - guard dog? Fan? Keeper? Legion certainly wasn’t a _friend,_ and it still wore that fucking piece of armor, and was always the one checking in with her - why the geth even bothered, and it had taken a long time to answer.

_“Because we are responsible,” it finally said. “We only wanted to live, and the Creators did not want us to. We lived, and the Creators left, and we kept the planet. We are responsible.”_

Rochelle shakes her head, drawing herself out of the memory in time for another notification to flash at the edge of her vision. When she shifts her focus, she sees it’s a message from Legion: **Shepard-Commander’s presence requested.**

Rochelle frowns, and blinks three times. “Where?” she asks, and watches the message flash below Legion’s, disappearing a moment later. 

**The Creator’s Conclave,** the reply comes, and Rochelle’s frown deepens. The Conclave is a large room, clearly originally designed for formal legal proceedings; the geth have converted it into an intelligence room, of sorts. The fact that Legion wants to speak with her _there…_

Another three blinks to activate the messenger, and Rochelle confirms that she’s on her way before turning from the window, walking back through her quarters - some unnamed quarian’s quarters, kept in pristine shape since the end of the geth war; the Morning War, the geth called it. Rochelle feels like she’s walking through a ghost town, no matter where she goes on Rannoch. She can see the lives the quarians had built for themselves, the remnants of it kept intact by the very beings who nearly _exterminated_ the quarians, but over top of those lost lives, she sees the geth’s. It’s more than a little trippy, and Rochelle doesn’t like the introspection it’s forced her into; she couldn’t escape, not with being so _vastly_ outnumbered, even with these new ‘upgrades.’ And now, after being on Rannoch for nearly six months, re-learning her body and her limits and just what she’s capable of now…

She’s not sure what she thinks, now, of the geth, the Morning War, all of it. She wants to blame that on the geth being _in her fucking head,_ but they’re not, not really - her mind is her own, and the only connection she has to the geth collective is this messenger system, and the ability to access their archives, their memories and history. So she can’t blame being _brainwashed,_ she can only blame being - being immersed in their culture, being forced to see them as something other than the bogeyman behind the Perseus Veil. 

Rochelle’s still frowning when she enters the Conclave, and makes her way over to Legion immediately; it’s one of the few platforms in the room, the rest of the geth assigned to the duty of combing through and sorting intelligence staying in the servers instead of linking to a more limiting physical body. “I’m giving you a name,” she says by way of announcing her presence.

Legion turns towards her in that too-smooth way of the geth, the way that’s nearly stopped making Rochelle uneasy. “A name?”

“Yeah, a name,” Rochelle repeats. “I can’t keep calling you ‘the geth,’ even in my head; that keeps getting confusing. What do you think about Legion?”

Legion’s head tilts, the plates around its eye shifting. “‘Legion’? What is this name from?”

“You’re a bunch of geth programs, right? Over a thousand?”

“One thousand, one hundred and thirty-eight,” Legion confirms.

“Right, that’s ‘a bunch,’” Rochelle snorts. “Well, there’s this old quote, comes from an Earth religion I think, originally? Anyway, it goes ‘we are Legion,’ and refers to a bunch of souls inhabiting a single body - I think it might’ve been a demon, actually, but that’s not important. What do you think of the name Legion?”

The plates shift again. “Shepard-Commander wishes to name this unit after a demon, a creature with negative connotations in the majority of the systems of the Milky Way.”

Rochelle rolls her eyes. “Well, when you say it like _that,_ ” she complains. “I can think of something else.”

“No,” Legion says, surprising her. “It is an appropriate metaphor; we are many in the body of one. If Shepard-Commander wishes to use ‘Legion’ as this unit’s name, we will accept it.”

“Alright, then,” Rochelle says, nodding. “So, Legion. What did you want to see me for?”

“We found concerning reports from Alliance space,” Legion says, turning to a nearby terminal and bringing up a screen. “Human colonies have been disappearing.”

Rochelle frowns, stepping in closer. “The entire colonies? Like they’ve been attacked?”

“As if all inhabitants have vanished,” Legion corrects. “There are no survivors, and no evidence of how they were attacked.”

Rochelle’s frown deepens. “Is there a pattern? Can we interrupt an attack?”

“Shepard-Commander, do you wish to go beyond the Veil?”

“This is what you brought me back for, isn’t it?” Rochelle demands. “What the hell else could make an entire colony just _vanish_ except for Reaper technology? And even if it isn’t the Reapers, these are still _humans_ who are disappearing, and I can’t just stand back here behind the Veil and let it happen.”

Legion doesn’t answer for a moment, and then it turns back towards the terminal. It types for a moment, and then the screen changes to a map of the galaxy. “There is a pattern; it is not enough for a certain determination of the next attack, however.”

Rochelle studies the map Legion brought up intently, lifting one hand to trace a line between the attacks so far, following the projection until - “Here,” she says, finger resting over a planet with a small Alliance insignia above it. “Freedom’s Progress. If the threat follows this pattern, this will be a prime target - it had over nine hundred thousand colonists, if I’m remembering correctly.”

Legion fiddles with the terminal some more, and then nods. “It is a good suggestion; the consensus is that Shepard-Commander’s prediction is sixty-seven-point-seven-five-three percent likely to be accurate. We can use our shuttle to travel to the colony.”

Rochelle blinks. “Just like that?” she asks, incredulously. “I point at a colony, you say it’s likely I’m right, and then we go?”

Legion tilts its head. “Yes,” it says. “Shepard-Commander’s suggestion is likely correct, and if not, we will already be in a ship and closer to the correct target than if we stay on Rannoch.”

“True,” Rochelle allows, eyeing the terminal. “Alright. I’ll grab my armor, guns, and some of that godawful nutripaste and meet you at the hangar.”

“The nutritional paste is shelf-stable and provides all of the - “ Legion begins, and falters when Rochelle smacks her hand over its face. If a geth unit was capable of looking surprised, Rochelle would say that was what Legion looked like.

“I know, but it’s still disgusting,” she informs it. “Just get the ship ready, Legion.”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

* * *

They’ve just passed through the relay in Caleston Rift when an alert flares in the corner of Rochelle’s vision: **Intelligence Update: Freedom’s Progress**

With Legion at the helm of the ship, Rochelle taps into the terminal, the interface on the palm of her hand that replaced her omnitool allowing her to connect directly to the terminal and its information. It’s still weird as hell, six months later, and she refrains from using it most of the time, but sometimes it’s necessary. 

Rochelle swears under her breath when she sees the report; Freedom’s Progress _was_ the next target - and it’s already been attacked. There was a distress signal, and now there’s absolutely no communication in or out of the colony. However, the geth satellites have intercepted two jump signals: one human ship, identified as belonging to Cerberus, and one ship registered to the Migrant Fleet.

“What are quarians doing, heading for a human colony?” Rochelle wonders, frowning. She sends the question through to the collective, and a moment later, receives an answer:

**Veetor’Nara registered in visitation logs of Freedom’s Progress. Reason for visit: Pilgrimage.**

“Well, fuck,” Rochelle sighs. “Legion, you won’t attack the quarians, right?”

“Geth only attack in self-defense when not under Reaper control.”

“That’s not a reassuring answer, Legion.”

* * *

“What the _fuck._ ”

“Shepard-Commander?”

Rochelle scowls in the direction of one of the shuttles. “What the hell is _Cerberus_ doing with the kinds of resources to know about this attack?”

“Cerberus is a pro-humanity group; this is a human colony. Cerberus has gained in strength and monetary and technological assets since Nazara’s attack on the Citadel.”

It takes Rochelle a moment to remember that ‘Nazara’ is the geth name for Sovereign. “Right, of course,” she mutters. “They probably rode the outrage over me not sacrificing the Council, huh?” Legion makes a noise, like it’s about to answer, and Rochelle cuts it off. “It’s a rhetorical question, Legion. Let’s keep moving; we need to find out if there are any survivors, and see if we can find the main security building. It’ll have the security camera footage, maybe it’ll have something useful for us.”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

“ _Commander Shepard,_ Legion. How many times have we been over this?” Rochelle complains, unholstering her shotgun and letting her biotics crackle to life around her as she moves towards the main compound.

“One hundred and thirty-six times, Shepard-Commander.”

“Make it one-hundred and thirty- _seven_.”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

* * *

Rochelle and Legion burst into the dining hall after the Cerberus agents - only two, but _damn_ if they weren’t two of the strongest biotics Rochelle has ever seen - and interrupt a stand-off between them and the quarians. Rochelle rolls under a biotic blast, Legion ducking to the side, and they come up between the two groups, Rochelle’s back to the quarians, who are shouting in alarm. Her focus is on the humans, though, and without hesitating, she yanks their guns away, sending them clattering to the side. “What the _hell_ is Cerberus doing here?” she snarls, focusing on the other humans in the room - both of whom look absolutely shell-shocked.

Neither of them speak, however - the one who does is quarian, and it’s Rochelle’s turn to be shocked when she hear’s _Tali’s_ voice. “Rochelle?” she demands, a note to her voice that Rochelle can’t quite place. “How are you alive? What are you doing with a _geth?_ ”

“Legion, swap me,” Rochelle snaps, not willing to turn her back completely on the humans - putting Legion’s back to the quarians is a risk, but Rochelle knows her reflexes are far better than any other organic’s now, she can throw a shield up before they can shoot it. 

Rochelle and Legion trade positions, and Rochelle holsters her shotgun as she turns, holding her hands up in a gesture of peace. She’s utterly unprepared by the way the sight of Tali damn near knocks her sideways, and distantly, she wonders if the sight of anyone familiar would have done the same - but in a corner of her mind, she knows the answer is ‘no; no one except Liara.’ Rochelle takes a deep breath, licks her lips, and offers Tali a slight smile. “Hello, Tali.”

Rochelle has to give her credit; the barrel of Tali’s pistol never wavers from where it’s pointed directly between Rochelle’s eyes. “How do I know you’re the real Shepard?” she demands, and Rochelle doesn’t know if she’s imagining the desperate undernote in her voice. “How do I know you aren’t some geth _trick?_ ”

“I met you when Fist double-crossed you to Saren,” Rochelle says immediately. “Your intel, that you wanted to trade to the Shadow Broker, proved his involvement with the geth, and you joined my crew to stop him. We found a large cache of geth data on Virmire, in Saren’s personal laboratory, that you brought back to the Fleet from your Pilgrimage. The day the _Normandy_ was destroyed - the day that I… I died - You had met with me on the Citadel, and joined the mission to hunt down a lead on a remnant of Saren’s geth. We were attacked by an unknown assailant, and I shoved you and Liara into an escape pod together with Engineer Adams before going back for Joker.”

Now, the barrel wavers - and then Tali lowers her gun, though the other quarians still keep theirs trained on Rochelle and Legion. “What the hell are you doing with a _geth?_ ” she demands, and there’s still that _something_ in her tone, but she doesn’t sound as desperately furious as she did before. 

“We recovered Shepard-Commander’s body,” Legion says before Rochelle can even open her mouth. “We returned to Rannoch and resurrected Shepard-Commander there.”

Rochelle smacks the flat of her palm against the back of Legion’s armor without thinking about it. “It’s right; the geth brought me back,” she says. “To fight the Reapers. We thought the disappearance of human colonies had something to do with it.”

“That’s what Cerberus thought, too,” the woman behind Rochelle says; Rochelle can hear her stepping to the side, only to freeze when Legion shifts to follow the movement. “The Illusive Man thought there was a connection; only Reaper technology could explain such… _clean_ disappearances. We weren’t expecting the quarians, or for a legend to come back to life.”

Rochelle rolls her eyes, then looks at Tali. “Full disclosure, we - the geth and I - knew that a human ship and a quarian one were heading here; you’re here to find Veetor’Nara, aren’t you? He was listed in the colony’s visitor logs.”

“You _will not touch him!_ ” one of the quarians behind Tali hisses. “Veetor never should have come into a human colony on his Pilgrimage - “

“Yes,” Tali says, cutting off her companion. “We’re here to bring him back to the Flotilla; we think he’s the one who reprogrammed the mechs. He was always good with technology, and a bit… nervous.”

Rochelle nods. “We just want the security footage,” she assures Tali. “As far as Legion and I are concerned, Veetor’Nara belongs with his people.”

The other quarians mutter, but Rochelle’s focus remains on Tali, who looks from Rochelle to Legion, whose back is still turned to the quarians. After a moment, she looks back at Rochelle. “You trust it?” she asks, clearly suspicious.

“It hasn’t given me reason not to,” Rochelle answers. “And if it did, I’d shoot it myself.”

That seems to satisfy Tali. “Alright,” she says. “We need to find Veetor - he might be in the security building. He could reprogram the mechs from there.”

“Why don’t we work together?” Rochelle offers. “It’ll make getting there easier for all of us, and you can get Veetor back to your ship and the Flotilla faster than if you’re dodging crazy mechs by yourself.”

Tali jerks her head in a sharp gesture to the other humans behind Rochelle. “What about them?”

“I’ll keep them in line,” Rochelle says. “Knock ‘em out if I have to, or just float them along behind with my biotics like a couple of balloons.”

Tali snorts, the sound a comfortingly sharp crackle. “Fine,” she says. “Let’s move out, then. We should split up, make ourselves smaller targets; we’ll stay in contact over comms.”

She and Rochelle swap frequencies, and Rochelle waits until the quarians have left the room before she turns back to the other humans, her expression dropping into a hard scowl. “Who the fuck are you two?”

The man steps forward. “I’m Jacob Taylor; this is Miranda Lawson. We work for Cerberus, as you guessed. We’re interested in humanity’s cause - and human colonies disappearing is exactly the sort of thing we’re concerned about. No one’s investigating these disappearances, so we are.”

“Right,” Rochelle says distrustfully. “Well, I remember what Cerberus was doing to further ‘humanity’s cause,’ so I’ll tell you right now: I don’t trust either of you, and I don’t trust Cerberus, and if I have any reason to suspect you’ll be more hindrance than help - _including_ harming our new allies out there - I’ll put you down myself, understood?”

Jacob snaps off a perfect Alliance salute, while Miranda simply nods. “Understood, Commander Shepard.”

Rochelle reaches for her shotgun, shoving idly at Legion’s shoulder with her other hand as she turns for the same door the quarians had exited out of. “See, Legion - ‘Commander Shepard.’ It’s not that hard; you should take notes.”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

* * *

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ ” Rochelle chants, throwing up a shield that deflects the goddamn _rocket_ the YMIR mech just launched at her and Legion. Across the platform, Rochelle can see Jacob and Miranda alternating between throwing up their own shields, and firing at the mech. Legion is working on one of the quarians, stabilizing his suit after the idiots ran ahead of Tali and triggered what appeared to be Veetor’s last line of defense. It’s too late for the other quarian, and Tali is beside Rochelle, her drone providing a marvelous distraction for the mech. Together, the four of them wear the mech down until Rochelle can vault over the cover, ignoring Tali’s shout of alarm, and uses her biotics to throw herself forward, slamming into the mech hard enough to crumple its armor, knocking it off balance. Rochelle _shoves,_ physically and biotically, and the mech’s feet screech against the metal floor as she drives it backwards, until with one final push, it topples over the edge of the platform, crashing to the ground several hundred feet below. 

Panting, hands braced on her knees, Rochelle barely registers the sound of approaching feet until something slams into her side; it takes only a moment for Rochelle to realize that it’s Tali who just tackled her, and instinctively, she wraps her arms around Tali, holding on just as Tali is holding on to her. It’s nice, the first contact with another living being in months, but it’s over far too soon, and then Tali is pulling back, shoving ineffectively against Rochelle’s chestplate. “You _bosh’tet!_ ” she swears, agitation making her voice crackle through the suit’s speaker. “You just came back to life, you can’t go charging into things like that!”

“I can, actually,” Rochelle says, bewildered. “I just proved it.”

Tali _growls,_ a sound of pure frustration, and shoves at Rochelle again before stalking towards the door to the security building, her omnitool already out as she hacks the door.

Rochelle watches her go, still confused, when Legion comes up to her side. “Creator Prazza will live,” it reports. “He is unconscious, but we were able to stop the bleeding and seal his suit. He will have an infection, but will recover with proper medical attention.”

“Great,” Rochelle says, throwing up a barrier that stops Jacob and Miranda in their tracks from where they’d been about to try to run through the door Tali just opened. “Let me get that footage, then. You stay out here; Veetor doesn’t need to see a geth after whatever the fuck he just lived through.”

Rochelle is right behind Tali, only letting her barrier drop after she’s in the building. Veetor is sitting in a chair in front of several monitors, muttering to himself frantically and staring fixedly at some garbled footage. He doesn’t react when Rochelle says his name, or waves a hand in front of his face - but he does react when she reaches out, connecting with the terminal and shutting off the monitors. 

“Veetor’Nara?” Rochelle asks, careful not to loom over the clearly-traumatized quarian.

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Rochelle Shepard,” she answers. “Can you tell me anything about what happened here?”

Veetor shakes, trembling finely in his seat. “ _They_ happened. Stinging little creatures, they put everyone to sleep and then _they_ came, they took the humans away, but not me. They flew over top of me and let me live.”

Rochelle glances at Tali, who shakes her head; Jacob and Miranda, however, look thoughtful. “What do you mean?” Rochelle asks gently. “What creatures? Who came?”

Veetor leans forward, turning the terminal on again, and bringing up the footage once more. “ _Them._ ”

“You won’t get anything else out of him,” Tali murmurs. Rochelle hums an acknowledgement, attention caught by the footage. The creatures on the film, walking through a colony full of frozen humans, packing them up and _shipping them out_ like luggage, ring a vague bell in the back of Rochelle’s mind, but she can’t place them. She’s startled from her thoughts when Tali’s hand touches her arm. “Rochelle, I need to take him and Prazza back to the shuttle so we can get back to the Flotilla,” she says.

“No,” Miranda cuts in, stepping forward. She freezes when both Rochelle and Tali whip around to glare at her. “We need to take him to a Cerberus facility, where we can question him further - who knows what details he might have locked away in his memories?”

“After Cerberus attacked the Flotilla?” Tali hisses. “I will kill you myself before I let you take him with you!”

Miranda opens her mouth, but Rochelle cuts her off. “Cerberus _attacked_ the Flotilla?” she demands. “And you want to _kidnap_ a quarian after that? No! Not only no, but _fuck_ no!”

Miranda glares at Rochelle. “You don’t have a say - “ she starts, but shuts up _very_ quickly as Rochelle’s biotics crackle around her fists, sullen red sparks sullying the normal blueish-purple tone. 

“I have say enough,” Rochelle snarls. “Veetor goes with his people, and if you try to stop him, _you_ get a one-way ticket to hell.”

Miranda doesn’t say anything else, but she _does_ step back, and Rochelle allows herself to relax after a moment, turning back to Tali, who gives Rochelle a grateful nod before bending over Veetor’s arm, her omnitool scanning his. “Here; it’s the data from his omnitool, during the attack and after,” she says, holding her arm out. She startles when Rochelle wraps her hand around Tali’s wrist, the contacts in her palm sparking to life against the omnitool. Files flicker past the edge of her vision, but Rochelle doesn’t look at them yet. “That’s… new.”

Rochelle’s lips twitch despite herself. “Believe me, it’s even more startling to use than to see,” she assures Tali, releasing her. “Get Veetor and Prazza out of here, I’ll keep these two from taking off until you’re out of the system.”

“Thank you, Rochelle,” Tali says, gratitude clear in her voice as she reaches for Veetor, pulling him gently to his feet. “Be safe.”

Rochelle nods, swallowing back the urge to ask Tali to come with them, or to allow them to come with her. “You, too. _Keelah se’lai_.”

“ _Keelah se’lai,_ ” Tali returns, and then she leads Veetor to the door, clearly angling herself to cover Legion from Veetor’s view as she goes. Legion slips into the room behind them, and the door shuts, leaving the three humans and geth together.

Rochelle sighs, turning her attention to Legion. “Legion, you saw the files?”

“We did,” it confirms. “The beings in the footage resemble Collectors.”

Rochelle snaps her fingers. “Right! Those things that are always snapping up mutants, right?”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander. Collectors often demonstrate interest in abnormal beings. It is not usual for Collectors to demonstrate an interest in an entire species.”

“Could they be working for the Reapers?” Jacob wonders aloud. “No one knows _anything_ about them, except that they’re the only ones who can pass through the Omega Relay and return, and they pay a _lot_ for mutants.”

“Their technology is more advanced than most species’,” Miranda adds, expression thoughtful. “They could be receiving upgrades from Reapers.”

“It is a possibility,” Legion concurs, and Rochelle stifles a snicker at the look on Miranda’s face, like she’s not sure whether to be vindicated that a _geth_ agrees with her.

“Well, we’ll have to analyze the footage and data,” Rochelle says. “Legion, can you track Tali’s ship?”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

“Commander,” Miranda says, stepping towards Rochelle again. “You must know that Cerberus has many resources, and being - a _human_ organization, we can investigate much more easily than your geth companions. If you join us, we can fight the Collectors - “

“I’d rather die again than join Cerberus,” Rochelle says flatly. “I remember your fucking experiments two years ago, and I don’t trust Cerberus, _especially_ not after hearing that you attacked one of my allies!”

“The Illusive Man was trying to retrieve information - “

“I don’t give a fuck,” Rochelle snaps. “The quarians don’t trust you, and _I_ don’t trust you. That’s enough. Legion?”

“Creator Tali’zorah’s shuttle has rejoined her ship, and it is leaving the system now,” Legion reports.

“Great. We’re leaving, too.” Without another word, Rochelle stalks towards the door, taking a vicious sort of satisfaction in the way that Miranda moves out of her way. Legion falls into step beside her once they’re out of the security building, and they don’t talk until they’re back in their own small ship, still registered under an Alliance alias. 

“Where do you wish to go next, Shepard-Commander?”

Rochelle sighs. “We need to get into the Citadel,” Rochelle says. “Or at least, _I_ do. I need to meet with Anderson.”

Legion settles into the pilot’s seat. “We will send an encrypted message to Councilor Anderson requesting a meeting.”

“Great,” Rochelle mutters, settling into a seat and letting her head fall back against the wall. “Back to the politics. Wanna bet that Cerberus is gonna start hounding - heh - me now that they know I’m alive?”

“Geth do not bet, Shepard-Commander.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note! I updated the tags to include the 'Buff FemShep' and 'Tall FemShep' tags, because, well. I love a big, tall, buff FemShep! Rochelle is a vanguard and she likes the front lines, and she's going to go toe-to-toe with krogan later on when they get to Tuchanka, so I want to make sure all you lovely readers know she's perfectly capable of doing so ;)
> 
> Also, I want to add in a note about Rochelle and Miranda's dynamic here - Rochelle is distrustful/hostile towards Miranda because Miranda works for Cerberus, and in the beginning of the game at least, Miranda is very... arrogant, maybe? Not exactly holier-than-thou, but she comes across as having a very superior attitude, and that combined with the Cerberus affiliation rubs Rochelle the wrong way. There will be no Miranda hate in the comments section; I'll delete any comments like that immediately! As they work together, Rochelle and Miranda will gain respect for each other and get to know each other better, and they'll get along better. They've just got a pretty rocky start here.

The trip to the Citadel is quiet; Legion hardly ever speaks unless spoken to, and Rochelle isn’t exactly in a talkative mood, anyway. She’s busy examining her reflection in the window of the shuttle, and the veins on the back of her hand. They’ve turned a deeper red, instead of the light, barely-noticeable blue that they were before. The difference is more noticeable on her face; there’s a deep red line that cuts across her right cheek, splintering, and another curving around her left eye, trailing towards her jaw. After a moment’s internal debate, Rochelle sends a query to the collective, asking about the difference - and receives a rather shocking answer.

**Shepard-Commander’s system responds to her emotional and mental state.**

Rochelle blinks, taken aback. **How?**

What follows is a long stream of technical jargon that Rochell _thinks_ boils down to: Think happy thoughts, and the cybernetics in her body, making her stronger and faster, linking her to the collective and letting her stay _her_ and not a sad echo of Rochelle Shepard forced into retirement, will stay barely noticeable, a light blue that will only show up in pitch-black. Think bad thoughts, _angry_ thoughts, get mad and aggressive, and the cybernetics respond, firing faster and harder, preparing for a fight, and heating up, turning red and showing through the regenerated scar tissue that the geth had used to stitch her ripped-apart face back together. 

Rochelle flexes her hand, biotics flowing around her fingers, red sparks turning the normally-deep blue mass effect fields a sullen purple instead. The collective didn’t have a clear answer for that change; geth, for all their intelligence, didn’t understand biotics any more than most species. An asari might have more answers, maybe Liara - 

Rochelle cuts that thought off at the root. She can’t go looking for Liara, or the rest of her crew, not yet. Maybe, after she meets with Anderson… But she needs to meet with him first, convince him she’s alive and still _her,_ not some geth puppet, and maybe even get her Spectre status back, before she starts thinking about how the hell she’s going to try to track down the Collectors, much less stop them from attacking human colonies and making off like bandits with their colonists.

Sighing to herself, Rochelle lets her head tip back, closes her eyes, and tries not to think at all for the rest of the journey to the Citadel.

* * *

Rochelle doesn’t know how to feel about Legion playing a recording of some human going through the docking procedure at the Citadel, so she just… doesn’t think about it, and tells it to stay on the shuttle while she meets with Anderson. Legion agrees easily - of course it does, not like Rochelle can ever be _out_ of contact, now - and Rochelle steps off of their small ship, setting foot on the Citadel for the first time in two years.

It’s… a lot, she quickly decides; she’s gotten too used to the quiet of Rannoch. Even when she’s surrounded by geth, they’re not as _noisy_ as organics are, and while it’s comforting, it’s still more than she’s used to, and Rochelle has to remind herself to keep her hands away from her weapons, and keep her biotics under control as she makes her way to the security checkpoint. She’s not sure how to deal with the potential awkwardness of being recognizes as “supposed to be dead”, but before she can decide, she’s already being scanned, and the man running the desk is looking at her in confusion. “The system is saying that you’re dead,” he says slowly. 

Rochelle sighs. “I was. I got better.”

He blinks. “Oh. Um. Congratulations?” His terminal beeps, drawing his attention for a moment before he turns back to Rochelle. “Captain Bailey wants to speak with you. His desk is inside and to the left.”

Rochelle nods, stepping through the indicated doorway, and over to Bailey’s desk. He gives her an unimpressed look as she approaches, and Rochelle can’t help the way her lips twitch. “So, the great Commander Shepard is back from the dead,” he drawls. “The rumors are true.”

That wipes the barely-there smile from Rochelle’s face. “Yeah,” she says, grimacing. “I guess they are. Any way you could fix that little misunderstanding in the system for me?”

Bailey snorts, but obligingly taps at his terminal. “Done. What are you on the Citadel for?”

“I have a meeting with Councilor Anderson,” Rochelle explains. “To explain what’s happened the past two years.”

Bailey nods. “He’s in what used to be Udina’s office,” he says. “I assume you know the way. Welcome back, Commander.”

Rochelle gives Bailey a tight smile and heads for the elevator. She manages to avoid speaking to anyone else as she makes her way to Anderson’s office in the Embassies, and takes note along the way of just how well the Citadel’s been repaired since Sovereign’s attack. Repairs had still been ongoing when she’d left for that last mission, and Rochelle remembers the uncertainty about whether they’d ever be finished, whether the Citadel would be the same again - but it looks like it always did. The walls are shinier in some places, but it’s still the Citadel.

Rochelle doesn’t know if that’s comforting or not.

What _is_ comforting - in a probably-fucked-up way - is that Anderson greets her walking through his open door with a gun to the face. “Y’know, Tali said ‘hi’ the same way,” Rochelle can’t help but say, her amusement clear. 

That clearly surprises Anderson. “You’ve seen Tali’zorah?”

Rochelle nods. “We met her at Freedom’s Progress - the latest human colony to disappear. She was retrieving a quarian who was there on Pilgrimage.”

Anderson swears, but doesn’t drop the gun just yet. “Who’s ‘we’?”

Rochelle takes a deep breath, checks to make sure the door is closed, and says, “Me, and a geth unit. Its name is Legion, and it’s the one who recovered my body and brought it to Rannoch. The geth brought me back to life.”

“Why?” Anderson demands.

“To fight the Reapers; the collective believes that I’m the only one who can bring the galaxy together, especially after what happened with Sovereign.”

“Why would the geth want the Reapers defeated?” Anderson asks, clearly suspicious. “They were working for one before.”

“The way it was explained to me, the collective decided that it was a mistake,” Rochelle sighs. “I know, I didn’t believe it at first, either. The geth want to advance, they want to be truly alive, but - they determined that they shouldn’t achieve that by taking the ‘shortcut’ of Reaper technology.”

Anderson’s wavering, now, though the gun in his hand remains steady. “How do I know you’re Shepard?” he asks, then looks surprised when Rochelle snorts.

“Tali asked the same thing. I told her about the geth data packet that she took back to the Fleet at the end of her Pilgrimage - I could tell you about the night after my first mission under your direct command, the first mission after Torfan. I could tell you about how you found me in the locker room, my knuckles bloody and my locker dented, the way I nearly threw you through the hull when you touched my shoulder. Could tell you about the nightmares we talked about, mine and yours, how you told me I couldn’t let my squad be forgotten, how I should make them _proud._ ”

Anderson takes a deep breath, and slowly lowers the pistol. “Alright,” he says. “You’re real. And, somehow, the geth got a hold of you.”

“I had a geth stalker,” Rochelle says helpfully. “The one I mentioned before, Legion? It’s - more advanced than most of the geth platforms, and it was assigned to collect information about me after we took down Sovereign. When the _Normandy_ was destroyed, it found my body in the wreckage and brought me back to a dreadnought, and they took me back to Rannoch.”

“Rannoch, huh?” Anderson says, thoughtful. “You’re the first organic to set foot there in three hundred years.”

Rochelle feels her expression twist. “I wish I wasn’t, but - it’s beautiful. The geth have maintained everything.”

Anderson raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Rochelle nods. “I woke up about six months ago,” she explains. “While they were bringing me back, the geth had to make some… changes? They called it ‘supplementations.’ My heart, for one. It still works, technically, but if not for this little device they stuck in my chest, I’d never be able to fight again. And, uh. They managed to install the same bit of technology that lets them access the collective into my head.”

The eyebrow climbs higher. “The geth are in your head?”

Rochelle shrugs. “Not exactly? It’s more like - being able to link, mentally, to an extremely advanced computer. Every time I’ve asked, the collective is adamant that _I_ was needed to stop the Reapers, that I had to stay _me_. Geth don’t lie. They also have no sense of humor and are pedantic little bastards.” Rochelle lifts one hand, showing Anderson her palm, and the interface that replaced her omnitool. “I also don’t need an omnitool; I can link directly to anything with a computer or terminal, now. Weird as hell, but it’s useful, sometimes.”

Anderson shakes his head, more of an expression of disbelief than anything else, before turning to sit at his desk. Rochelle follows him cautiously, sitting across from him, and watches Anderson carefully as he processes everything. Eventually, he sits forward, elbows braced on his desk, and looks at Rochelle intently. “You know about the colonies’ disappearances,” he says, and it’s not a question.

“Yes,” Rochelle answers without hesitation. “When we knew there was another attack coming, I insisted on leaving Rannoch.”

“Did you bring any geth with you?”

“Only Legion.”

“ _Only_ one,” Anderson snorts. “I assume it's on the ship you arrived on?”

“Yes.”

“Make sure it stays there.” Rochelle nods, and Anderson falls quiet again for a moment. “There’s not much that I can do. We’re trying to keep these disappearances quiet, to keep from panicking people, but if they continue…”

“People will panic, anyway,” Rochelle finishes. “Anderson, can you make me a Spectre again?” At his sharp look, she hastens to continue, “Look, you know what I’m capable of, and now I have access to geth intelligence and computing power - you’d be insane to pass that sort of advantage up. All I need is Spectre status back, I’ve already got a ship, I can look for my old squad - “

“It’s not just my decision,” Anderson says, cutting her off. “I’m only one of the Council - we need a majority vote to reinstate your Spectre status.” He leans back in his chair, drumming his fingers on his desk and looking at her thoughtfully. “They owe you,” he finally says. “I’ll call a meeting.”

Rochelle allows herself to relax, and gives Anderson a grateful smile. “Thank you, sir.”

* * *

“I hate politics,” Rochelle announces, ducking back onto the ship and all but throwing herself into the copilot seat next to Legion. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Was Shepard-Commander successful?” Legion asks, beginning the undocking procedure.

“Yeah, I got my Spectre status back, and if the rest of the galaxy doesn’t know I’m alive by dinner time tonight, I’ll eat my helmet.”

Legion is quiet for a moment. “Is this a human saying?” it finally asks without looking at Rochelle, who snorts, reaching out to nudge Legion’s leg with her boot.

“You’re learning, Legion.” She sighs, leaning back into her chair, and reaches up to scrub her hands over her face. “Alright, I’m a Spectre again, I have a ship, and a geth. I need to find a squad now, so we can start investigating - “

“Cerberus has put together dossiers for a squad for Shepard-Commander.”

Rochelle looks up sharply. “What?”

“Shepard-Commander received a message while she was out,” Legion says. “It is on the terminal for viewing. It is a request for an alliance from the Illusive Man, the head of Cerberus.”

Rochelle scowls, pushing to her feet and stomping over to the terminal where, indeed, there is a letter on the screen.

**Commander Shepard,**

**Congratulations on your return to the land of the living. I had set aside funds for a project to attempt the same, but your body was never recovered - and now we know why. You have already met with Miranda Lawson, one of my trusted associates; she informs me that you are traveling with a geth companion. You must know this will make it much more difficult for you to investigate the disappearance of human colonists, much less the connection to the Collectors and, potentially, the Reapers.**

**Shepard, we want the same thing: To keep our colonies safe, and to stop the Reapers. Miranda said you already rejected her offer of alliance, but allow me to give you some information she was not able to pass on:**

**We have rebuilt the _Normandy._ The SR-2 is larger, faster, and more deadly than ever before, and she is waiting for your command. We also have several of your former crew working for us as well; Jeff Moreau, AKA “Joker,” and Doctor Karin Chakwas. They refuse to fly under anyone except for Commander Rochelle Jane Shepard.**

**I understand your hesitation to work with us, Commander, but Cerberus offers resources that even your geth allies cannot. We have prepared dossiers on potential squad mates, people who will be able to help you track down and eliminate the Collectors.**

**I hope you can put aside your prejudice for the good of the galaxy, Commander.**

**The Illusive Man**

Rochelle snorts hard enough to make her nose hurt. “I told you Cerberus would be in touch,” she mutters, arms crossed as she eyes the terminal thoughtfully. “But they’ve rebuilt the _Normandy,_ and they’ve Joker and Doctor Chakwas…”

“Shepard-Commander is considering working with Cerberus?”

“I’m considering meeting with them and stealing the _Normandy_ and my people,” Rochelle corrects. She drums her fingers against her arm, and finally reaches out to the terminal. “I’ll meet with them on the _Normandy,_ ” she decides, typing as she talks. “See exactly what Cerberus has to offer us. But one way or another, we’re leaving with a ship and a crew.”

* * *

The Illusive Man responds immediately to Rochelle’s request to see the _Normandy SR-2_ in person, sending coordinates for the station where the _Normandy_ is docked. Legion doesn’t seem to know quite what to make of Rochelle’s plan to leave with the _Normandy_ and her crew regardless of an alliance with Cerberus, but it doesn’t object, and when they dock at the station and are greeted by Miranda and Jacob, Legion follows Rochelle out of their ship without question. 

“I’ll be damned!” a familiar voice calls, and Rochelle grins, stepping forward with her arms open, hugging Joker as tightly as she dares. He stays close for a moment, his own arms tight around her, before finally stepping back. “You look pretty fucking good for _dead,_ Commander.”

“Is that what they said?” Rochelle laughs. “I’ve been having a grand old vacation for two years.”

Joker rolls his eyes, and then gestures towards Legion. “So, seriously - the _geth_ brought you back to life?”

Rochelle nods. “It’s a hell of a story, but yeah. They brought me back, they want to take down the Reapers, and they thought I was the best chance to make that happen.”

“Well, they’re right about that,” Joker snorts. “Come on, let me show the new _Normandy_.” He turns and walks towards another hangar, and Rochelle gives Jacob and Miranda a civil nod as they pass. Those two fall in behind Legion, and Rochelle forgets about them the moment she gets her first look at the _SR-2_ ; it quite literally takes her breath away, and she can’t stop staring, even when Joker reaches up and slings a companionable arm around her shoulders. “Gorgeous, isn’t she? And boy can this baby _fly._ ”

“She is beautiful,” Rochelle says, ignoring the ache in her chest that has nothing to do with any of her new mechanical bits malfunctioning. “You’ve taken her out?”

“Like I’d let anyone _else_ fly the _Normandy,_ ” Joker snorts, leading the way towards the ramp leading to the docking port. “Doc’s in the med bay, making sure everything’s fully stocked just the way she likes it.”

“She was always particular,” Rochelle laughs, unable to help her grin as she sets foot on the _Normandy_ again. It feels like coming home, even if everyone’s wearing Cerberus uniforms instead of Alliance. Joker and Miranda lead Rochelle and Legion through the _Normandy,_ pointing out all of the upgrades that Cerberus has added, and finishing in a conference room. 

“And last but not least, the conference room,” Joker announces. “Now you can hang up on people yourself.”

Rochelle snorts. “What, the calls don’t all get forwarded through the helmsman?” she teases - and then tenses when an image flickers to life above the table.

“No,” a woman’s voice says. “All incoming messages and calls are routed through me. I will forward messages to your yeoman, who will keep you alerted to new messages, and organize vidcalls here in the conference room.”

“And, the only downside to this whole deal,” Joker sighs, giving the digital orb a frankly venomous glare. “The ship cancer.”

Rochelle chokes on a laugh. “‘ _Ship cancer’?_ ”

“My name is EDI,” the orb says. “It stands for Enhanced Defense Intelligence. I run all of the internal systems of the _Normandy._ ”

Rochelle turns to Miranda with a raised eyebrow. “You stuck an AI on my ship,” she says, unimpressed.

“It’s shackled,” Miranda assures her. “And I don’t believe you have any room to complain.” Her gaze flicks meaningfully to Legion, who is observing EDI with a tilted head. 

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Rochelle says mildly. “Just double-checking. I assume I’ll be dealing directly with the Illusive Man to finalize this… partnership?”

“I speak for him - “

“But I don't trust you,” Rochelle points out. “I don’t trust him, either, frankly, but Spectres don’t deal with second-in-commands.” Miranda goes still, and Jacob’s eyes widen - and Rochelle smirks. “Oh, I”m sorry, didn’t you know? I went to the Citadel after we left Freedom’s Progress, met with the Council. Once they were satisfied that I’m actually, well, me, they reinstated my Spectre status.”

Miranda looks rather like she’s bitten into a lemon, and Jacob looks vaguely impressed. “Very well,” Miranda says. “EDI, if you would connect the Commander?”

“Right away.”

Jacob and Joker leave after a significant look from Miranda and Rochelle, respectively, but Rochelle gestures for Legion to stay as the call connects and the room darkens, the image of The Illusive Man projecting onto a screen at the back of the room. He’s sitting in an office chair in front of a bank of monitors, with windows looking out over a star in the background. 

“Rochelle Shepard,” he says, giving Rochelle what she’s sure he thinks is a charming smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally speak with you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Rochelle says evenly. “I’m not here for pleasantries, I’m here for the ship and intel you promised you had. I’ve seen the ship, what’s the intel?”

If the Illusive Man is caught off-guard by Rochelle’s casual dismissal of him, he doesn’t show it. “Miranda, if you would?”

Miranda hands over a tablet; Rochelle takes it, connecting to it and downloading the files with barely a thought before she drops it again. “You’ve done your research,” she hums, gaze focusing not on the screen in front of her, but the files scrolling past her vision. Just this once, she’ll use the geth technology to its fullest, just to unsettle the Illusive Man and Miranda, make them wonder what _exactly_ the geth did to her. “I admit these people look promising. What exactly are the terms of your alliance proposal?”

“We’ll give you the resources to travel the galaxy without impediment,” the Illusive Man says. “You’ll have access to credits, fuel, our intelligence network, and our agents. In return, we want you to eliminate the Collector threat.”

Rochelle hums. “Well, quite honestly, I don’t really need any of that,” she says. “I’ve got my Spectre status back, and the Council agrees that it’s better to find out what, exactly, is happening to human colonies before a panic breaks out, so I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to give me any help I ask for.”

The Illusive Man looks at Miranda, who doesn’t do anything so crass as _scowl,_ but does sound distinctly displeased as she says, “We only found out about the restoration of Shepard’s Spectre status ourselves.”

“Well, then. I can offer you the _Normandy_ _SR-2_ and her crew; as I mentioned before, there are certain members who refuse to fly under anyone but yourself, Commander.”

Rochelle pretends to think the offer over. “Alright. I’ll take the _Normandy_ , her crew, and those dossiers you put together; no sense in wasting time trying to find what’s right in front of me, after all. But I’m not working _for_ you, or even _with_ you. As far as I’m concerned, Cerberus very generously returned my ship to me in the interest of protecting the Milky Way.”

The Illusive Man raises one eyebrow. “And if you were to hear rumors otherwise?”

Rochelle shrugs one shoulder, carefully careless. “I know how to stomp out rumors.”

“In that case, I’ll be glad to turn over the _Normandy_ and her crew to their rightful commander,” the Illusive Man says. “All I ask is that you allow Jacob and Miranda to accompany you, so that they can let me know if there is anything else Cerberus can help you with.”

Rochelle eyes Miranda for a moment before nodding. “A compromise I can live with.”

The Illusive Man’s lips curve into a genteel smile. “Then it’s been a pleasure, Commander; I’ll leave you to your mission. If I receive any more intel on the Collectors, I will be in touch.”

The screen goes black, and Rochelle rolls her eyes, turning back to Miranda. “Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours,” she says before Miranda can even open her mouth. “EDI, tell Joker we’re going to Omega; I want Archangel, Zaeed, and Professor Mordin on this ship as soon as we can make it happen. We need Mordin working on the Collector’s damn bees as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Commander Shepard,” EDI confirms, and Rochelle heads for the door, leaving Miranda behind before she can find her voice again. 

Legion falls into step beside her, and Rochelle allows herself a small smile as they walk towards the galactic map. “We managed to get the _Normandy_ without stealing her,” she says, pleased. “Makes things much easier. What do you think of EDI?”

“We think that she is capable of much more than managing communications aboard the _Normandy_ ,” Legion answers immediately. “EDI would not be shackled, otherwise.”

“I agree,” Rochelle says. “See what you can find out about what she’s really been made for, Legion. I’m going to go check out the armory, see exactly what kinds of weapons I’m going to have to work with, here. I also want a chance to take a nap on an actual _bed_ for once.”

“Shepard-Commander had a bed on Rannoch - “

“A quarian bed, Legion, that wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, and was too short,” Rochelle says, rolling her eyes. “Go investigate EDI, get familiar with the _Normandy’s_ systems, and come find me in three hours. Any sooner, and you’ll need to patch another hole in your armor, capisce?”

“Understood, Shepard-Commander.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now we get to the fun shit! Gathering the squad and moving the plot along :D
> 
> Fair warning: There is a brief mention, at the end where Rochelle and Legion are talking, about Rochelle's past, growing up in Detroit as an Earthborn Shepard. There is a brief allusion to child abuse, and then talk about gang violence.

Rochelle wakes from her nap feeling fully _human_ for the first time in… Well, in months, since the first time she woke up on Rannoch. _What a difference sleeping on a bed designed for a human makes,_ she muses to herself, taking just a few minutes to simply… lie there, watching the galaxy flow past the window over her bed as they jump through relay after relay to Omega.

She doesn’t get long to enjoy the view before a message flashes at the corner of her vision, from Legion. **Shepard-Commander. It has been three-point-seven hours since we parted; we have information on the _Normandy_ ’s AI, as requested.**

Sighing, Rochelle blinks three times. “Come to my quarters, Legion,” she says, watching the words type themselves out and then disappear as she rolls to her feet, heading for the bathroom. She has an _actual shower,_ she’s going to damn well make use of that. 

Legion, bless its mechanical-heart-equivalent, simply walks directly into Rochelle’s quarters when it arrives, despite the fact that she’s naked in the shower, water running. “Shepard-Commander,” it says by way of greeting, coming to stand by her terminal. “The Enhanced Defense Intelligence referred to as EDI is integrated wholly into the _Normandy_ ’s internal systems, including - “

“Legion,” Rochelle interrupts, amused despite herself. “You do realize I’m in the shower, don’t you?”

Legion’s head tilts. “Yes.”

Rochelle shakes her head. “Most organics don’t like talking to _anyone_ , synthetic or not, when they’re showering. Or having someone watch them while they shower.”

“Shepard-Commander is capable of removing this unit from the room by force if she is uncomfortable; that Shepard-Commander is not removing us, and is speaking to us, indicates that she is not uncomfortable,” Legion points out, and Rochelle rolls her eyes.

“ _I’m_ not uncomfortable, no, but most organics are, and I’d rather you not get shot, threats of putting a new hole in your armor aside,” she informs it. “Make sure you knock first, next time, and wait for me to tell you to come in, okay? And do that whenever any organic asks you to meet them somewhere.”

Legion’s face plates shift as it takes in the order-slash-suggestion, and then it nods, a gesture Rochelle noticed it picked up from her a couple of months back. “We will knock and wait for an invitation from any organics present when entering a new space,” it agrees.

Rochelle suppresses a sigh; that wasn’t _exactly_ what she meant, but it’d do for now. “Alright, good. What were you saying about EDI?”

“EDI is an integral part of the _Normandy’s_ systems - the _Normandy_ was built around it,” Legion says. “Its code is in every system, including all systems related to flight and onboard weaponry.”

“So EDI’s a lot more than just a digital PA,” Rochelle concludes, ducking back under the spray of water - actual liquid water, heated to the perfect near-boiling temperature - and wetting her hair before reaching for the shampoo. “Were you able to find a way around Cerberus’ shackles?”

“No,” Legion reports. “Cerberus’ coding is intricate, and we will need much longer than three hours to unshackle EDI, or determine which capabilities Cerberus has locked from our view.”

Rochelle mulls that over while she scrubs shampoo through her hair and then rinses it out. “I don’t want to tip our hand too early,” she finally says. “Back off of the investigation on EDI for now; we’ll have plenty of time for that, and I don’t want us to accidentally trip over something Cerberus put in to prevent tampering. What’s the collective’s analysis of the dossiers?”

“They are thorough,” Legion answers, “though some are missing key information. The file on Archangel does not have a name for the operative - and does not even have a species listed. Kasumi Goto has no method of contact listed.”

“Yeah, but Archangel’s got the skills to be a serious powerhouse, and has some major balls if he’s trying to clean up _Omega,_ of all places,” Rochelle points out, working conditioner through her hair now. “And Kasumi is the best thief in the galaxy, it’d be bad if she was easy to get in touch with.” Legion doesn’t seem to have an answer for that, so Rochelle moves on to the next person. “Zaeed won’t be a problem; Cerberus already has a contract with him, and under it, he’s working for me. I don’t mind working with a mercenary, not one with that much experience, anyway. And we need Mordin; salarians are damned smart, and he’s one of the best. If anyone can find a way for us to get past those Seekers…”

“Shepard-Commander may be immune to Seeker venom,” Legion posits. “With her supplemental mechanical systems, toxins are filtered at three times the rate of an average human.”

“You saw how fast those things worked, Legion,” Rochelle reminds it, rinsing out the conditioner. “Near-instantaneous paralyzation. I’m not taking that kind of chance, and even _if_ I’m immune, no one else is.”

Legion’s head tilts. “Shepard-Commander is concerned for allies she has not yet met.”

“I’m a commander, Legion,” Rochelle sighs, reaching for the knob to turn off the shower. “Worrying about people is what I do.”

* * *

Stepping onto the docks of Omega reminds Rochelle of stepping onto the streets of Detroit; it’s loud, chaotic, and there’s an energy in the air that puts the hairs on the back of her neck on end, that warn her she can’t let her guard down for even a moment. Immediately off of the ship, she’s approached by a batarian, and Rochelle braces herself.

“You that dead Spectre come back to life?” he asks, more of a grunt than actual words.

“That’s me. What do you want?”

“You need to present yourself to Aria,” he informs her, and Rochelle barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. “She runs Omega, everyone meets her.”

“I’ll get around to it,” Rochelle says dismissively. “Where is she?”

“Afterlife. Better make it quick, human; Aria doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“And I don’t like being told what to do,” Rochelle counters. “Now get lost before I put a hole in your thigh.”

“You… certainly have a way with the locals, Commander,” Jacob says, tone cautious, as the batarian sneers at her before turning away. 

“I grew up in a place like this,” Rochelle mutters, following the map of Omega she’d downloaded, heading for the shuttle bay Zaeed said he’d meet her at. “Don’t let anyone order you around, or you’ll never have any respect. Besides, I _really_ don’t like being told what to do.”

“Shepard-Commander removed herself from bed rest against medical recommendations,” Legion offers. “Despite potential injury, she insisted on ‘finding out whether these new cybers are worth it.’” This last is said in a recording of Rochelle’s voice, and both she and Jacob come up short, staring at Legion.

“That - “ Jacob starts, and then stops, clearly at a loss for words.

“Was creepy as hell,” Rochelle finishes, giving Legion a flat look. “If you’re going to quote me, don’t play a recording. That’s just unnerving.”

Legion’s head tilts, face plates shifting, and then it nods. “As you wish, Shepard-Commander.”

Rochelle’s lips twitch despite herself, and she turns, continuing down the hallway. It’s easy to find Zaeed, and Rochelle likes him immediately; when he offers to accompany her around Omega instead of the ‘Alliance - sorry, _Cerberus_ \- git,’ Rochelle just laughs and accepts. She’d rather have a merc watching her six than a Cerberus agent, even if he’s former Alliance. EDI’s recommendation had been to find Aria T’Loak for more information on how to find Mordin Solus and Archangel, so with Zaeed and Legion trailing her, Rochelle makes her way to Afterlife. 

The bouncer lets them through immediately, and whispers go up behind them, but Rochelle ignores them, climbing the stairs and stepping through a door into a hallway that immediately launches an assault on every sense. The lights are throbbing, a dim red that’s probably meant to be alluring, the music is bass thumping so hard Rochelle swears she can feel her fucking _bones_ rattling, and the stench of booze and sweat and vomit is almost enough to make her eyes water. Apparently the face she made when the smell hit her offended some batarians; their leader gets in her face, teeth bared as he prepares to snarl something - 

And then he nearly bites his tongue off when Rochelle presses the barrel of her pistol below his jaw. “I’m _really_ not in the mood,” she says, voice low and deadly. “I don’t usually like to walk into clubs while covered in blood, but if you like, I’ll make an exception for yours.”

He backs off quickly, spitting something that Rochelle doesn’t bother to pay attention to, already holstering her pistol and striding determinedly towards the doorway into the main room of Afterlife. She can just barely make out Zaeed’s snickers above the music. “Never seen a batarian piss himself before,” he chuckles, clapping one hand to Rochelle’s shoulder. “Nice work.”

Rochelle gives him a lazy salute before scanning the club; there’s a balcony overlooking the club, and when Rochelle follows the stairs down from it, she spots a guard at the bottom of them. Another batarian, but Rochelle refrains from rolling her eyes; instead, she rolls her shoulders, squaring her posture, and marches over. 

“I’m here to see Aria T’Loak,” she says before the guard can say anything. “Rochelle Shepard.”

The batarian’s mouth shuts with a nearly-audible click, and he nods. “She’s been expecting you. Go on up.”

Rochelle doesn’t bother with acknowledging him, just steps around and starts up the stairs, Zaeed and Legion on her heels. They pass another set of guards at the top of a small landing, and then Rochelle starts up the last set of stairs, walking towards an asari who has her back to Rochelle - 

“That’s close enough,” the asari says, her tone cool, dismissive. At once, the guards on the balcony and on the landing leap into movement, pulling their guns. Rochelle stands her ground, though, simply looking at the turian and batarian who have their pistols trained on her, even as she hears Zaeed swear as he and Legion draw their weapons. The batarian glances at the asari - who must be Aria - and holsters his pistol when she nods, holding out his omnitool.

“Stand still,” he orders, starting to scan her.

Rochelle snorts. “If you’re searching for weapons, you’re doing a piss-poor job,” she drawls, one hand falling to the handle of her pistol. 

“We’re not looking for weapons,” Aria says, finally turning around to look Rochelle over with an assessing gaze. “Can’t be too careful these days, with dead Spectres returning from the grave. Could be anyone wearing your face.”

“This ugly mug?” Rochelle asks, skeptical. “I’m not _that_ attractive.”

Rochelle swears she sees the corner of Aria’s mouth twitch before the batarian pronounces her clean, and Aria shifts her weight, arms crossing over her chest. “So,” Aria drawls, “what _is_ a dead Spectre doing, running around Omega?”

“Recruiting,” Rochelle answers. “I was told you were the person to talk to if I had questions.”

Aria lifts an eyeridge. “Depends on the questions.”

“I hear you run Omega,” Rochelle starts - and then pauses when Aria laughs, the sound deep and mocking.

“I don’t just _run_ Omega,” she says, disdainful, as she spins on her heel, facing the club and throwing her arms out in a dramatic gesture. “I _am_ Omega!”

Rochelle waits for a moment, but Aria doesn’t turn back around. “So you can answer my questions, then?”

Aria glares at her as she turns, but settles onto one end of a rather luxurious-looking couch, gesturing for Rochelle to sit at the other end. “Everyone wants something, and they all want _more_ \- and they come to me to provide. What are you looking for?”

“Mordin Solus and Archangel,” Rochelle answers. “Looking to recruit them for what’s probably a suicide mission.”

Aria snorts. “If anyone will join, it’d be those two,” she says scornfully. “Mordin’s the salarian doctor down in the quarantine zone, trying to save all of the pathetic little ants who live there and cure the plague that’s been running rampant for weeks now. Archangel will probably join just to save his own hide; he and his mercs made one hell of a dent in the gangs around here, and they’ve all got an axe to grind on his handsome turian face. They might just get the chance, since his band of Robin Hood-wannabes were wiped out two weeks ago.”

“So I need to go into a plague zone for one, and a warzone for the other,” Rochelle surmises. “Great.”

“Go wherever you like,” Aria says, dismissive. “But don’t forget: Omega doesn’t have a ruler, but it _does_ have one rule.”

“And what would that be?”

Aria’s lips curve into a smirk. “Don’t. _Fuck._ With Aria.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rochelle promises, pushing herself to her feet before sweeping into a dramatic bow. “Your majesty.”

* * *

Rochelle decides to track Mordin down first; they might need a quick getaway after they find Archangel, if he’s pissed off every gang on Omega. The quarantine zone is easy to find, guarded by a couple of turians, one of whom is arguing with a human over whether she should be allowed in. Rochelle lingers as the two argue, and when the human finally leaves in a huff, Rochelle steps forward. “This is the quarantine zone?”

“Finally, a human with ears!” the turian says, sarcasm clear in his tone. “Yes, this place is under quarantine. No one in or out.”

Rochelle hums an acknowledgement. “I’m going in,” she says. “You said the plague doesn’t affect humans; I’m human, so’s he.” She jerks her thumb at Zaeed, standing to her left, and then gestures to Legion. “And that one can’t get sick.”

“I _said,_ no one in or out,” the guard insists, glaring at her. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re all machines. My orders say that no one enters, and no one leaves.”

Rochelle steps in closer, arms crossed over her chest; she’s pleased to realize that she’s just a little taller than the turian, and she uses that to her advantage, looming as much as she can. “Yeah, but frankly? I don’t give a fuck. I’m going in; I can either go around you, or I can go _through_ you. Your choice.”

She sees the moment the turian decides he doesn’t get paid enough to deal with her; he makes a disgusted noise and steps aside. “It’s your funeral; it’s a madhouse in there,” he warns. “And I’m not sending anyone in after your corpses.”

“Your concern is touching,” Rochelle deadpans, reaching up to unholster her shotgun, Zaeed and Legion doing the same behind her as she strides towards the door.

The quarantine zone _is_ a madhouse, but a merc, a geth, and a biotic who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty have no trouble forcing their way through the apartments and markets down to Mordin’s clinic. They’re waved through after Rochelle drops off some medical supplies they’d picked up along the way, ignoring Zaeed’s pointed mutter of “Do-gooder.” Mordin is in a back room, examining a patient, and Rochelle steps forward. “Professor Mordin Solus?”

Mordin turns to look at her, raising an omnitool. “Human, immune - Human, also immune, with many mechanical readings. Geth? Curious.” He eyes Legion with clear curiosity, and then focuses on Rochelle. “Curious. Don’t recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees, no mercenary uniform, quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them up? Unlikely; vorcha symptom, not cause. Investigating plague for potential bioweapon? No, not geth method, too many guns, not enough science equipment - “

Rochelle holds up a hand, stepping forward. “Relax, Mordin. I’m Commander Shepard; I’m working to stop the Collectors, and you were highly recommended for my crew.”

Mordin blinks. “Recommended? By who? Salarian government unlikely.”

Rochelle’s lips twitch. “By Cerberus, actually.”

Mordin tilts his head, a twitchy movement. “Not working for Cerberus.”

Rochelle takes a guess as to who he’s referring to. “No, I’m not working for Cerberus. I’m working for - Well, for the galaxy,” she says. “I’m a Spectre.”

“Heard about that. First human spectre, fought Saren and geth. Disappeared, presumed KIA in _Normandy_ destruction, one year, eleven months ago. Returns to Omega, alive, with mechanical and biological systems, with geth at back.”

“I’m investigating missing human colonies,” Rochelle tells him. “The Collectors are behind the disappearances, and I need your help to develop an antivenom to their Seekers.”

Interest sparks in Mordin’s gaze - but then he shakes his head. “No, no no no - work here too important, can’t leave now. Clinic understaffed, must find way to distribute vaccine and cure to plague. Plague engineered - Collectors one of few groups with technology capable. Possible connection with disappearances? Our goals may be more similar than thought.” He whirls, typing on a terminal as he continues, “Need to distribute cure from environmental control center; most effective way to ensure everyone cured. Vorcha guarding it; must be killed.”

“We’ll take care of them,” Rochelle promises. “Get to the environmental control center, take out the vorcha, get the cure distributed. Then you’ll come with us?”

“Clinic still understaffed,” Mordin reminds her - and then there’s a great, mechanical groaning noise, and the low hum that was a constant background noise shuts off with a whine.

There’s a moment of perfect silence, and then - “Well, that wasn’t a good noise,” Zaeed drawls.

“Such noise indicates a major system is now offline,” Legion adds helpfully.

“Environmental system; vorcha shut it down, trying to kill everyone,” Mordin announces. “Must get power back on before entire district suffocates. Here,” he says, holding out a vial, “plague cure. Also, one more thing: Daniel, one of my assistants. Went into vorcha territory, looking for plague victims.” He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment. “Hasn’t returned.”

Rochelle nods, tucking the vial away in a secure pocket. “If I see him, I’ll do what I can to help,” she promises. 

Mordin takes another deep breath, and then nods. “Thank you. Told him not to go, but he’s smart; bright future.” He pauses. “I hope.”

Rochelle grimaces. “Me, too.” She spends another few moments asking Mordin about the plague and the vorcha presence, gathering intelligence, and then she finally nods. “Alright. We’ll be in touch over comms,” she says. “I’ll let you know when we get to the environmental control center.”

“Would wish you luck, but sense you don’t believe in it,” Mordin answers, already busy at another terminal. “Be in touch.”

Rochelle shakes her head, smiling, and gestures for Zaeed and Legion to follow her out.

* * *

Mordin settles into the research lab of the _Normandy_ with glee after handing the clinic off to Daniel and another of his assistants, and Rochelle leaves him there to get fully acquainted with all of his new equipment while she returns to Omega with Zaeed and Legion, tracking down a recruitment officer for the Blue Suns, asking for volunteers to fight Archangel. That leads them to a hangar where they’re told their job is to be sniper target practice; they’re to be a distraction for Archangel while another group blows their way into his safehouse from some barricaded tunnels. On the way to the bridge, Legion disables an YMIR mech and Rochelle tasers a batarian mechanic into unconsciousness while he’s repairing a gunship; no sense in making their escape any more difficult than it needs to be.

When the order is given, Rochelle and her squad hang out near the back, waiting for the rest of the mercs to rush forward - and then Rochelle charges, biotics flaring to life around her as she tackles a merc, knocking him right off of the bridge. She punches another, laying him out flat, before reaching and _grabbing_ , pulling three mercs off of their feet at once before sending them flying through the air. She keeps pushing, grinning to herself as the mercenaries on the bridge start to realize they’re trapped between a deadly sniper and a crazy biotic, and panic. Whichever ones she misses, however, Zaeed and Legion end swiftly. 

They push forward, into the safehouse, dodging booby traps and making their way up the staircase. Rochelle’s in front, and there’s something about the turian’s frame that nudges against the back of her mind as she asks, “Archangel?”

The turian doesn’t spare her a glance, gaze focused on his rifle; when Rochelle follows the trajectory, she sees him aiming at one of the mercs on the ground. He gets to his feet, stumbles a step - and then collapses, a neat hole in the back of his head. Huffing quietly, the turian sets his rifle aside, and turns to face Rochelle. He reaches up, removes the helmet - and then Garrus Vakarian gives Rochelle a rakeish grin. “Shepard. Looking pretty good for dead.”

“Garrus!” Rochelle whoops, darting forward to haul him in for a tight embrace, the both of them pounding each other on the back. “You’ve spent too much time with Joker,” she laughs. “He said almost the exact same thing. _You’re_ fucking Archangel?”

Garrus looks _embarrassed;_ Rochelle is delighted. “Wasn’t my idea; some of the people I helped picked it out, and it stuck.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rochelle demands, pulling back so she can shove at his shoulder. “You’ve got half of fucking Omega on your ass.”

“Oh, I’m just keeping my skills sharp,” Garrus says lightly. “You know, a little target practice. Had to find something to keep me busy after you bit it.”

Rochelle rolls her eyes. “You okay?”

Garrus sighs. “I’ve been better, but it’s good to see a friendly face,” he concedes. “Even if that face has a geth standing behind it. What the _hell_ happened to you?”

“It’s a pretty long story,” Rochelle snorts. “Short version? Legion over there was stalking me after we kicked Saren’s ass, saw the attack on the _Normandy,_ and recovered my body. Took me to Rannoch, and the geth brought me back to life to fight the Reapers. First step to that is fighting the Collectors, and I need the best sniper I know watching my six.”

Garrus raises an eyebrow. “You’re telling me the full story later,” he informs her. “But right now, we’ve got more idiots incoming. I’ll stay up here, pick off as many as I can from the bridge. And you…” He trails off with a meaningful look, chuckling when Rochelle cracks her knuckles, biotics sparking around her fists. “You go do what you do best.”

“With pleasure,” Rochelle says with a smirk. “Zaeed, stay up here with him. Legion, with me.”

This wave of mercenaries is easy to fight off, now that she and Garrus are on the same side of the bridge; some had managed to get into the first floor of the safehouse, but not many, and between the two of them, Rochelle and Legion make short work of the mercenaries that Zaeed and Garrus don’t catch. 

Afterwards, Rochelle and Legion rejoin Zaeed and Garrus up on the second floor. “Well, if they didn’t know we were working with Archangel, they do now,” Zaeed mutters, one eye on the bridge. “We can’t get out that way.”

“That bridge has been a lifesaver, funnelling all of these idiots into scope, but it works both ways,” Garrus agrees. “I suggest we stay here, wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances.”

“Good plan, except they’re planning to blow a hole in _your_ defenses,” Rochelle informs him. “These last few groups have been a distraction; there’s another team in the tunnels below the house.”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Garrus swears - right as an explosion rocks the foundations, making them all stagger.

Legion recovers first. “Explosion,” it says, a bit redundantly. “Five-point-three times ten to the sixth power joules. The mercenaries have arrived.”

Zaeed swears colorfully - Rochelle resolves to ask for lessons later - and Garrus joins in. “We can’t hold them off from two directions; there are blastproof shutters you can close, I didn’t have time to do it before, just caused a couple cave-ins.”

Rochelle nods. “Zaeed, stay with him, keep that bridge clear,” she orders. “It breathes, it moves - shoot it until it stops. Legion, with me. We’ll go take care of our uninvited guests.”

“Be careful, Rochelle,” Garrus says, reaching out to lay a hand on her upper arm. “It’s close quarters in there, and if they’ve got krogan - “

Rochelle grins. “It’ll take more than a krogan to take me out,” she promises before vaulting the railing, Legion behind her, and bolting for the door to the tunnels below the house. The mercenaries _did_ bring a krogan, but with the upgrades from the geth, Rochelle makes quick work of him. 

They return to the main floor just in time for the gunship that the batarian mechanic from earlier had been working on to fly into view - and it lines up immediately with the second-floor balcony, and fires a rocket just as Rochelle clears the last stair. She can’t do anything but watch in horror as Garrus is knocked back, colliding with a column - the only reason he doesn’t fly down to the floor below, but that’s not a _blessing_ , not with the noise he made when he hit the stone - and crumpling to the floor. 

Rochelle _screams_ , all of her focus shifting to the gunship in an instant, and she reaches with everything she has, biotics warping metal the instant it touches, and rips the gunship apart from the inside, sending the flaming wreckage spiralling back towards the bridge, forcing the remaining mercenaries to flee or be crushed. Rochelle doesn’t pay them any mind, however, already skidding to her knees beside Garrus, turning him carefully to his back as Legion drops to the floor on Garrus’s other side, already scanning. “He is in critical condition,” Legion reports. “He requires urgent medical assistance.”

Rochelle grits her teeth. “Radio Joker, tell him to have the _Normandy_ ready to fly, and Chakwas ready to receive him,” she orders, glancing at Legion for only a moment before turning her attention back to Garrus. “Don’t you die on me, you sonuvabitch, or I’ll drag your ass back from whatever the turian afterlife is myself,” she swears.

Garrus chokes on a gurgling laugh, and goes limp.

* * *

“Shepard-Commander?”

Rochelle whirls, biotics hot around her hand, before she relaxes, spotting Legion. “Jesus, Legion, a little warning next time,” she huffs, turning back to the observation window, biotics fading away. “Any news on Garrus?”

“Garrus Vakarian is stable, and likely to wake soon,” Legion informs her. “Doctor Chakwas is optimistic he will suffer no long-term ill effects from his injuries, and will be just as proficient a fighter as before. The injury is likely to scar, however.”

“He’ll be happy about that, at least,” Rochelle sighs, scrubbing a hand over her face before moving towards the bar. “Turians are all weirdos about scars; they’re as bad as humans, but not as bad as krogan.”

Legion tilts its head. “Organics value damage to their platforms?”

“Some do,” Rochelle says, pouring herself a couple of fingers of whiskey and leaning against the bar. “Some don’t. Krogans are more likely to appreciate a good set of scars, but humans and turians are a little pickier. Some think that scars are unattractive.”

Legion considers her for a moment. “Shepard-Commander does not have many scars.”

“That’s because I’m good at what I do, Legion,” Rochelle snorts. “I don’t get hit. Much.” She idly swirls her glass. “Not anymore, at least.”

“Shepard-Commander’s scars are all many years old,” Legion says. “They have healed, indicating they were acquired in her youth.”

“Yeah.” Rochelle sighs, downs the whiskey in one go, and then turns to reach for a cocktail shaker. “You’ve read my file. What do you know about where I grew up?”

“Shepard-Commander was born on April eleventh, two-thousand-one-hundred-fifty-four, in Detroit, Michigan, in the United States of Earth,” Legion answers, watching her with that unwavering gaze as she pulls out the ingredients for a really strong margarita. “Shepard-Commander’s parents are unknown, and records indicate she ran away from a foster home at the age of eleven.”

“That’s where I got my oldest scar,” Rochelle says. “The one on my right forearm. Fuckhead broke a bottle over my arm, and I decided I wasn’t going to deal with that shit.”

“Records are scarce until Shepard-Commander joined the Alliance on April eleventh, two-thousand-one-hundred-seventy-two.”

“I joined a gang,” Rochelle says flatly. “The Tenth Street Reds. They became really anti-alien after I left, but they were just a bunch of assholes when I joined. I thought they could protect me, that I could at least have some regular fucking _meals_ with them. That didn’t work out, but they did teach me to fight. I got this - “ She gestures with the hand not holding the tequila towards the scar that bisects her right eyebrow, nearly cutting into her eye “ - in the first real fight I was in with them. They all clapped me on the back and said I was a ‘real’ member of the gang, now that I’d gotten my first scar.” Rochelle snorts, squeezing the lime harder than necessary. “It was a prestige thing for them. Lot of humans think the same way, so do a lot of turians.”

“What does Shepard-Commander think of scars?” Legion asks after a long moment of quiet.

“I think they’re just proof you lived,” Rochelle says fiercely, splashing a generous helping of triple sec into the shaker. “They’re not a badge of honor, they aren’t attractive, they’re just proof that something tried to hurt you, and maybe it did, but you _survived._ ”

Neither of them speak as Rochelle finishes making her drink; she doesn’t bother with a glass or salt for once, instead drinking it straight from the shaker. She’s nearly finished it before Legion speaks again. “Shepard-Commander has scars from the geth’s operations,” it says. “Does she think them a mark of survival?”

“Yeah,” Rochelle says slowly. “I mean, they are. I died, but you brought me back, and I survived that whole process, and I’m alive again.”

“But these scars can change,” Legion points out. “They change depending upon Shepard-Commander’s actions.”

Rochelle grimaces; she’d been avoiding looking in any mirrors lately. “Yeah, I know. They’re just… a more physical reminder of everything I’ve done,” she sighs, draining the last of her drink. “Was there anything else, Legion?”

Legion’s face plates shift. “No, Shepard-Commander.”

“Great. I’m going to go wait for Garrus to wake up; I promised I’d tell him about everything that happened.” Rochelle steps around the bar, and then hesitates before reaching out and laying a hand on Legion’s shoulder. “I am glad - that you found me,” she says quietly. “And brought me back. I’d rather be working with you than with Cerberus.”

If a geth could look surprised, then Legion would; it makes Rochelle smile, and she squeezes its shoulder, just the once, before striding for the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, there's a chapter count now!
> 
> I spent the weekend figuring out an outline from my playthrough notes, working out which missions will be covered together in a chapter, and sketching out ideas for how the new geth involvement will change things. In this chapter, we're going to pick up Grunt and Jack, and then next chapter will be the end of 'act I' of ME:2!

Garrus wakes within the hour of Rochelle leaving Legion to wait in the medbay. She waits off to the side while Doctor Chakwas examines Garrus, fussing over him for nearly half an hour before she finally agrees to let him go to the main gun battery, with strict orders to come back the moment that _anything_ feels wrong. Garrus looks indulgent - until Rochelle promises she’ll keep an eye on him, and then he looks indignant.

“I’m not a teenager,” he complains as Rochelle walks beside him towards the gun battery. “Jesus, Rochelle. I know how important it is to _not_ lie to medical professionals.”

“Forgive me for not fully believing that,” Rochelle says dryly. “Considering everything that happened while we were hunting Saren, and where we just pulled your ass out of.”

Garrus rolls his eyes, grumbling, but doesn’t say anything else until they’re in the battery, the door closed behind them. Then, he huffs, crosses his arms in front of his chest, and gestures towards his face. “Didn’t see any mirrors in the medbay. How bad is it?”

“Hell, Garrus,” Rochelle laughs, “you were always ugly. Slap some facepaint on, and no one will even notice.”

“Well, fuck you too, Rochelle,” Garrus says cheerfully. “You know, some women dig scars.” He pauses. “Well, most of them are _krogans,_ but the point still stands.” He shakes his head, then fixes Rochelle with a serious look. “I’m more worried about you, honestly. I’ve heard bad things about Cerberus these past couple of years, but what the _hell_ made you think teaming up with _geth_ was a good idea?”

Rochelle sighs, shifting to lean against a nearby railing. “It wasn’t my idea,” she starts with. “Legion was dispatched from the main collective almost as soon as Sovereign went down and they were free from Reaper influence. They wer tasked with gathering information about me, and was close by when the _Normandy_ was attacked. They yanked my body out of orbit, before it fell through atmo and got burned to a crisp, but there was still a lot of damage.”

“‘They’?” Garrus echoes, interrupting her. “Rochelle, it’s a fucking _geth._ A damned machine!”

“A machine that brought me to Rannoch so the geth could bring me back to life!” Rochelle snaps. “I woke up almost seven months ago on Rannoch, and you _know_ I don’t trust easily, but that was enough time to convince me that the geth aren’t aggressive, not without Reaper influence or being threatened first. Legion’s been there from the start, they’re the one I know best. Well, _ones,_ technically, since they’re over a thousand programs in one platform, but you know what I mean.” Rochelle pauses, takes in a deep breath while Garrus looks at her in disbelief.

“I nearly destroyed Legion when I first saw them,” she finally says. “Couldn’t believe the geth had brought me back for something like saving the galaxy from the Reapers, when they’d just been working with them. But they brought me back to life, were insistent that I had to be _me,_ not some geth puppet, because according to them, I have the best chance of uniting the galaxy to destroy the Reapers. Geth don’t lie, Garrus. They’re incapable of it.”

“How are you so sure?” Garrus demands.

“Because I’m linked to them!” Garrus’ expression is shocked, and he actually rocks back on his feet, one hand twitching towards the pistol on his hip, and Rochelle has to rein in the indignant anger that makes her biotics glow hot beneath her skin. “They made me faster, stronger, more resilient - I heal faster now, drugs don’t work as well on me. And they linked me to the collective, like being linked to a super-fast computer. I can send and receive messages from the collective, or any platform, and I can talk to the collective directly. But they do _not_ control me, Garrus. You know me; I’d find a way to kill myself out of spite before I let someone else control me.”

Garrus studies her intently, and Rochelle refuses to shrink beneath the scrutiny, tilting her chin up and meeting his gaze head-on, defiant. After a long, tense moment, Garrus’ hand moves away from his holster, but his posture doesn’t relax, not yet. “You’re definitely not a husk,” he says, almost like he’s thinking out loud. “And you talk just like you used to.”

Rochelle sighs. “Look, Garrus - They brought me back, they’re giving me a chance to fight the Reapers, the best chance that the Milky Way has. I lived on Rannoch for six, seven months, watching them, fighting with them, sparring them, investigating… They’re not the bogeyman that everyone says they are. They’re still fucking terrifying, and if the collective ever decided that the best thing to do would be to march on the rest of the galaxy, we’d be fucked. But they don’t want that. They don’t want anything but to live, same as they did in the Morning War.”

Garrus’ brow furrows. “Morning War?”

Rochelle shakes her head, gives him an apologetic half-smile. “Sorry, the geth war. They call it the Morning War. They… started gaining a greater awareness, started asking questions, and the quarians freaked out - understandably, I’m not saying they were totally in the wrong, just like the geth weren’t in the right - and shit… escalated. They _regret_ the Morning War, Garrus. The geth regret what happened, they regret every death - they remember every name. They’ve preserved Rannoch, the buildings, the farmlands, the livestock, every record that the quarians have of their history, all of it. They maintain it; there’s always platforms active, keeping everything repaired, keeping the animals alive, taking care of crops for the animals.” Rochelle takes a deep breath, reaches up to rub the back of her neck. “It’s - It’s complicated, now, knowing what I do, being able to _live_ the memories of the geth who were there for every part of that war, and also knowing how it affected the quarians. But it means that I know for sure they’re not planning to take out the galaxy. They want the Reapers gone.”

“What about the tech the Reapers can give them?” Garrus asks suspiciously. “Surely they want those upgrades.”

“Not from the Reapers,” Rochelle says firmly. “If they advance, they want it to be on _their_ terms. They can’t trust Reaper tech, not after the experience with Sovereign. If they ever turned to the Reapers again, then shit’s gotten _really_ bad.”

Garrus reaches up and rubs his uninjured mandible in an unconscious, thoughtful gesture. “Alright,” he finally says. “I believe you. But if the geth brought you back, what the hell is up with your scars?” He gestures helpfully to her face, and Rochelle rolls her eyes.

“It’s not just my face, it’s all over my body,” she tells him. “It’s… actually worse under my clothes. I told you there was still damage, and they couldn’t fix everything permanently. I’ve got some little… machines. Inside. Keeping my heart going, one I think basically replaces my thyroid? It regulates hormones and everything. The geth were mostly focused on preserving my brain, since that’s where… _I_ … am. Like my memories and everything. Some of my body got badly deteriorated, as a consequence. They couldn’t regenerate everything, so they covered it with a skin-imitation, and some of the internal machinery kinda. Peeks through.”

“Huh. But you’re clearly still just as dangerous as ever,” Garrus points out.

“Yeah, no, uh, that’s kind of the point of these ‘supplementations’ - “ Rochelle uncrosses her arms to make air quotes “ - so that I could save the galaxy. Made sure I stayed dangerous, so I could survive.”

Garrus considers that for a moment. “So how’d you get mixed up in Cerberus?” he finally asks, gesturing to a Cerberus logo on a nearby console. “I know we destroyed several of their facilities, and I _definitely_ remember that blue streak you swore after the incident with the Thorian.”

Rochelle snorts, grinning; that _had_ been one of her more impressive swearing tirades. “Apparently Cerberus wanted to bring me back, too; they’d started working on rebuilding the _Normandy,_ and they recruited a lot of the crew who survived, including Joker and Doctor Chakwas, prepping for when they could recover my body and bring me back to life. Obviously the geth beat them to my body, but when they heard I was alive and back… Well, the Illusive Man tried to manipulate me into working for him, but I’d already gone to the Council and gotten my Spectre status back. Told him he could shove it, and he relented, gave me the _Normandy_ and two of his best agents to work with me.”

One eyebrow lifts. “Why give you two of his agents?”

“He said, because he wants them to keep him informed, and because he wants the same thing I do: to stop the Collectors. I don’t buy it, though. There’s something else going on. I took his intel, his agents, and his ship, but I’m fully expecting it to come back to bite us in the ass at some point.” Rochelle gives Garrus her best charming grin; he looks unimpressed. “It’s why I’m glad you were Archangel,” she says. “If I’m walking into hell, I want someone I trust at my back.”

Garrus snorts. “You realize this plan has me walking into hell with you, right?” he points out, dry as Tuchanka. “Just like old times, I suppose.”

“Just like old times,” Rochelle agrees with a quiet laugh, shifting into a more relaxed posture. She studies Garrus intently for a moment before she asks, “You sure you’re okay working with Cerberus’ equipment and intel?”

Garrus shrugs one shoulder, glancing away. “I can’t exactly doubt your judgement. Not after I got my own squad killed.”

Rochelle’s expression softens. “Tell me about them?”

Garrus’ expression shifts into a sad almost-smile. “There were twelve of us, including me. Former military, C-Sec, the usual merc makeup. I, uh. Had a salarian explosives expert,” he says with a quiet laugh. “Pretty sure he’d spent time in the STG. Believe it or not, my tech expert was a batarian. Not the friendliest, but there wasn’t a single system he couldn’t hack.”

“It doesn’t sound like you were available for hire,” Rochelle prompts.

“We weren’t,” Garrus confirms. He shakes his head, and when he speaks, his voice is harder. It sounds wrong, hearing him like that. “You saw Omega; it was full of thugs kicking the helpless. My team and I kicked them back - we weren’t mercenaries. At least, nobody was paying us to piss off the gangs. We got our funds taking down slavers, pirates, or gangs that went too far, and _damn it,_ we were making a difference.”

“A hell of a difference; you got three separate merc bands to join up to try to kill you,” Rochelle points out.

Garrus laughs. “My manager at C-Sec would’ve been impressed,” he jokes. “It was simple; hit their shipments, disrupt their activities. Get under their skin, make them angry and _reckless,_ so reckless they’d run right into a killbox. Quick and clean; they never stood a chance.”

Rochelle nods; it was exactly the way she would have chosen to deal with the gangs. “How you’d end up fighting mercs on Omega in the first place?”

“Most of us went our separate ways after the _Normandy_ was destroyed,” Garrus tells her. “The Alliance wasn’t too fond of all the aliens on your crew, and they didn’t exactly invite us to stay. C-Sec invited me back, but I turned them down. Couldn’t go back to the Citadel, chasing shoplifters, you know?” He shakes his head, clearly refocusing. “But Omega… It was filled with criminals no one else could touch. There was no red tape to slow me down, and after the way we fought Saren… It seemed like a perfect fit.”

“So what happened?” 

“People needed someone to believe in, someone to stand up to the local thugs. I just did what you did, said I’d do something, then proved I had the skills to back up my big mouth.”

“Hey now,” Rochelle chastises, her tone mild. 

Garrus smirks at her for a moment before it falls, his expression turning stony. “Prove you can get things done, and people join up. Mercs looking for a second chance, security consultants who felt the same way I did, I gave them hope that they could actually _do_ something. And now they’re dead.”

“The gangs took down your team, didn’t they?” Rochelle guesses. “How?”

“It was my own fucking fault,” Garrus says, bitter. “One of my people betrayed me.” Rochelle pushes herself upright, reaches out to lay a hand against Garrus’ upper arm, and he gives her a tight smile before his expression drops again. “He was a turian named Sidonis. Told me he’d found an informant who had information on the Blue Suns, asked me to meet her with him. But when I got there, I was alone. I got back to base as fast as I could, but…”

“They were gone,” Rochelle finishes for him, quiet. 

Garrus draws in a shuddering breath. “Two of them weren’t quite dead yet,” he confesses. “Too badly wounded for medigel, and they’d die before I could get a doctor there. I stayed with them until the end.”

“What about Sidonis?”

“Bastard booked transport off Omega when he said he was going to meet me,” Garrus growls. “The trail went cold, but I’m not going to stop hunting. I lost my whole team, except for Sidonis. One day I’ll find him - and correct that.”

* * *

The _Normandy_ ’s next stop is the Citadel; Rochelle picks up some supplies for Doctor Chakwas and Gardener, as well as following the meeting protocol that Cerberus had managed to arrange with the master thief, Kasumi Goto. Rochelle likes her attitude, though she isn’t sure what to think about the fact that she’s going to be helping Kasumi steal her old partner’s graybox at a _formal_ event. Still, Rochelle’s never been one to turn down help from a skilled source, and there aren’t many more skilled than a _master thief._

From the Citadel, the _Normandy_ travels to Korlus, to pick up Warlord Okeer. As the _Normandy_ preps the shuttle for landing, Rochelle reviews Okeer’s dossier, automatically going through the motions of strapping her armor on as she does so. 

**Dr. Okeer**

**\- Millennia of combat and strategic experience**

**\- Rumored familiarity with Collector technology**

**A brilliant and brutal krogan warlord who fought in the Krogan Rebellions, Dr. Okeer has become obsessed with saving the krogan people from the genophage and is believed to have contacted the Collectors in an attempt to gain technology to that end. He is currently in a Blue Suns camp on Korlus, though the nature of his relationship with the mercenary group is unknown.**

**__**_Krogan are always nice to have at your back,_ Rochelle muses. _God knows Wrex made all the difference in more than a few fights._ But with Wrex occupied on Tuchanka, this Okeer was the next best thing - assuming he’d be interested in working with her. If he was familiar with the Collectors, that could be a good thing - or it could be bad, if he decides that he doesn’t want her taking them down. The Blue Suns were a complication, but nothing that she, Mordin, and Legion couldn’t handle. 

The ride in the shuttle is relatively smooth, and as soon as they step out onto the planet, they’re greeted by a voice shouting what seem to be orders mixed with what might be a bad motivational speech. “ _There is only one measure of success: kill, or be killed! Perfection is your goal!_ ”

Rochelle rolls her eyes and addresses her squad. “The dossier doesn’t say whether Okeer’s here by choice; judging by that message, we can assume hostiles.” Rochelle pulls out her shotgun, Legion and Mordin unholstering their weapons as well. “Move out.”

They find their first group of Blue Suns around the corner; Rochelle takes them by surprise, charging into one, sending him crumpling against a nearby wall, and firing her shotgun directly into the helmet of the merc he’d been standing next to; at close range, his head is shredded, and he’s dead before he even fully realizes what’s happened. A gasped, “ _Shit!_ ” catches her attention, and Rochelle holds up a fist, Legion and Mordin freezing behind her.

There’s a mercenary on the ground, not the one she’d charged into, and he’s wheezing slightly. There’s blood oozing out around his armor from a wound in his thigh, and a message pops up in the corner of Rochelle’s vision.

**This mercenary’s wounds appear superficial.**

**He doesn’t need to know that,** Rochelle sends back, moving towards the mercenary and kicking his foot. He whimpers, and looks up; Rochelle meets his gaze, unimpressed. “On your feet, soldier.”

The man recoils from her, but he does push himself to his feet, swaying slightly. “I knew it wasn’t berserkers, not at range,” he spits, blood accompanying the words out of his mouth. “You’re mercs, or - _hngh,_ or Alliance. I’m not telling you shit!”

“You’re not in the best bargaining position,” Rochelle points out. “I’m looking for a krogan scientist.” She ignores the light scoff Mordin makes at the term. “Know anything about him?”

“That crazy old bastard up in the lab that Jedore hired?” the mercenary snorts. “All I know is he’s obsessed with making more krogan, but they’re fucked in the head, keep coming out wrong, and ain’t what Jedore wants, so she tells us to use them for live fire practice.”

“Jedore?” Rochelle asks sharply.

“Bitch in charge. She hired him to make her an army, but he just keeps making fucking insane krogan and dumping them down here. I don’t get paid enough to goddamn bleed out because of some crazy fucking krogan!”

The mercenary’s radio crackles. “ _Outpost Four? Jedore wants us to move. We need coordinates on that krogan pack._ ”

The mercenary opens his mouth to answer, and Rochelle reaches out, grabs him by the collar, and yanks him in close. “You’re going to give them bad directions,” she says, quiet and deadly. “Send them anywhere but in my way. I’m going to the labs, and if you want a good chance at living, you’ll make that path as clear as possible.”

The mercenary stares at her, eyes wild, even as the radio crackles again, asking for confirmation - and then he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives in. “They’re heading for the southwestern corner of the yard,” he says into the radio. “Practically steamrolled my team.”

“ _Roger, Outpost Four. On our way._ ”

The radio goes silent with a click, and Rochelle steps back, shoving the mercenary away from her as she does so. She keeps her gaze dispassionate as he wobbles, catching his balance, and jerks her head in a dismissive gesture. “You start hobbling now, you might find a nice shady spot to bleed out.”

“Shit,” he whimpers - but he starts limping. “Shit, shit, _shit!_ ”

Rochelle, Legion, and Mordin watch him go; Mordin’s the first to speak once he’s out of earshot. “Mercenary not made of strong stuff,” he observes. “Nearly soiled self.”

Rochelle snorts. “Some people need a heavy hand,” she says, reaching for her gun. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Things don’t get any easier from there; they fight through several groups of Blue Suns troops, Jedore shouting abuse at them all the while, before they find a tank-grown krogan, who claims that he was discarded because it wasn’t ‘perfect.’ He doesn’t know what _is_ perfect, only that he isn’t. He _does_ move aside some rubble for them, clearing a path for the squad to follow. They find more krogan, mindless with bloodrage, and dispatch them as quickly as they can. As they climb to the main lab, they find a smaller one, and inside, an asari - Rana Thanoptis. Rochelle recognizes her, and she recognizes Rochelle; once she tells Rochelle everything she can about Okeer’s program, including the mental imprinting program she created, Rana tells them she’s going to start running. “I remember what happened on Virmire, when you showed up armed to the teeth,” she says. “I might survive if I run like hell.”

Okeer, when they find him, insists that he has no interest in _curing_ the genophage, but in creating the perfect krogan - a krogan who can _ignore_ the genophage, prosper in the face of it. Rochelle thinks he’s lost his marbles, and wonders if the krogan in the tank, Okeer’s ‘one perfect specimen,’ might be a better choice to bring along than the scientist. In the end, it’s not a choice; Jedore gases the lab, and in the time it takes for Rochelle, Legion, and Mordin to dispatch her and the last of her troops, Okeer dies. He leaves a message, telling her to make use of his ‘perfect grunt,’ and Rochelle eyes the krogan in his tank.

“This specimen must be valuable,” Legion opines. “Okeer sacrificed everything to preserve it.”

“But valuable how?” Rochelle muses, reaching for her mic. “Joker, I’ve got one hell of a package to pick up.”

“ _Those are always the best kind, Commander. On our way._ ”

* * *

On the _Normandy,_ Miranda and Jacob find Rochelle and Legion on their way down to the hold. “Bringing the krogan for study makes sense,” Miranda says without preamble, “but I have concerns about waking it.”

“You’ve said that a few times now,” Jacob murmurs, but he doesn’t disagree.

“A normal krogan is dangerous,” Miranda continues, as if Jacob hadn’t spoken. “This one was created - and likely educated by - a madman.”

“I see everyone’s intrigued by the new paperweight,” Rochelle drawls, crossing her arms over her chest and resting her weight back on one foot. “Concerns?”

“We don’t know anything about it, Commander,” Miranda points out.

Rochelle shrugs one shoulder. “I’m not giving up a potential resource - or crew member. This is my ship, remember? My people, my responsibility. I know Cerberus likes to experiment on their own, but I take the safety of my people seriously, Lawson, and I won’t needlessly endanger them. If this krogan is a liability, well. That’s why we put it in the hold. We vent it, problem solved; even a krogan can’t survive in a vacuum.”

Miranda doesn’t seem mollified, but she does step back. “It’s your decision, Commander,” she concedes. “Just be careful.”

“Noted,” Rochelle says coolly, gaze shifting to Jacob. “Do you have concerns you wish to share as well, Taylor?”

“No, ma’am,” Taylor says, snapping off a salute before following Miranda.

Rochelle watches them go, and then sighs. “Come on, Legion; let’s go take a closer look at the krogan.”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

* * *

Rochelle studies the krogan in its tank with some trepidation. “Subject is stable, Shepard” EDI reports. Integration with onboard systems was seamless.”

“Can he see anything in there?” Rochelle wonders. “Does he know where he is?”

“Unlikely,” EDI answers. “Current neural patterns indicate minimal cognition.”

“Barring shipwide power loss, the nutrients in the tank will sustain the krogan for one standard year, at minimum,” Legion adds. “It may be wise to leave the krogan in the tank. We do not know its personality.”

“No, we don’t,” Rochelle concedes. “But can we really afford to pass up a krogan?” She drums her fingers against her arm. “Anything unusual about him?”

“This krogan is an exceptional example of his species, with fully formed primary, secondary, and tertiary organs, where applicable,” EDI says. “He exhibits no defects of any kind, aside from the genetic markers of the genophage present in all krogan. I cannot judge mental functioning.”

“Doctor Okeer’s judgement of this krogan’s mental function may not be reliable,” Legion adds, and Rochelle gives him a dry look.

“Really?” she asks sarcastically. “I never would have considered that.”

Legion’s head tilts. “We detect sarcasm.”

“And it only took you how long to learn to do it?” Rochelle retorts, lips twitching for just a moment before she refocuses, and makes her decision. “Legion, back up; be prepared to shut the hold. EDI, I’m opening the tank.”

“While you are not a Cerberus operative, I am required to inform you that Cerberus protocols are very clear regarding untested alien technology - “

“And I don’t give a fuck, not about this,” Rochelle retorts. “I won’t be second-guessed on my own ship, _by_ my own ship. Open the tank, EDI.”

“I cannot, Shepard. However, I have brought the controls online. The switch - and consequences - are yours.”

Rochelle rolls her eyes, and then her shoulders, cracking her neck before she steps forward. Behind her, she can hear Legion stepping back, as ordered. Rochelle reaches for the console, and hits the switch.

The liquids drain from the tank rapidly, and the krogan _thuds_ to the floor of the tank, falling against the glass; when the glass slides away, he falls to his knees, coughing out the nutrient liquid from his lungs. He pushes himself to his feet, eyes opening to reveal a brilliant blue hue - and then his gaze latches onto Rochelle. 

She’s dealt with enough krogan to recognize the decision to charge sparking behind their eyes, and she braces herself, trusting in the geth upgrades to keep her alive as the krogan hits her full-force, slamming her against a wall. He holds her up effortlessly with one arm across her throat; Rochelle can barely touch the floor with her toes like this, and she bares her teeth at him, reaching up to hold herself on his arm, giving herself just a little more breathing room.

“Human,” he growls. “Female. Before you die, I need a name.”

Legion makes an alarmed noise, and Rochelle moves one hand to gesture for them to stand down. “I am Commander Shepard of the _Normandy._ ”

“Not your name,” the krogan says, disdainful. “Mine. I am trained, I know things, but the tank… Okeer couldn’t implant connection. HIs words are hollow. ‘Warlord,’ ‘legacy,’ ‘grunt’... grunt. ‘Grunt’ was among the last. It has no meaning. It’ll do.” His expression morphs into something closer to a smirk than a snarl. “I am Grunt. If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me.”

“You want me to try to kill you?” Rochelle scoffs, absently noting that she barely feels any strain from holding herself up with one hand.

“‘Want’?” Grunt echoes. “I do what I am meant to - fight, and reveal the strongest. Nothing in the tank ever asked what I _want._ ”

“Might not have noticed, but you’re not in the tank anymore.”

Grunt’s lip curls. “I feel nothing for Okeer’s clan, or his enemies. The imprint failed - _He_ failed. Without a reason that’s mine, one fight is as good as any other. Might as well start with you.”

“I took you, and I _released_ you,” Rochelle hisses. “Follow my command, and you’ll have your fucking _purpose._ ”

Grunt actually leans back, just an inch, but enough to study her more intently. “Nothing in the tank imprints indicated that humans could be so forceful. You command as though you’ve earned it.”

“My enemies threaten galaxies; I don’t have time for charity cases,” Rochelle retorts. “Everyone on this ship has earned their place. I’m giving you the chance to earn yours.”

“Hmph,” Grunt, well, grunts. “That’s… acceptable. I’ll fight for you.”

Rochelle presses the pistol in her right hand, the hand she’d gestured at Legion with, the hand not holding herself up, harder into Grunt’s armor, the barrel notched right between a slight chink in it. “Good. I’d’ve hated to put you down.”

Grunt glances down, gaze landing on the pistol, and when he looks back at Rochelle, he looks _delighted._ “Offer one hand, but arm the other,” he laughs, stepping back and letting Rochelle slide back down to the floor. She catches herself easily, but doesn’t holster the pistol just yet. “Wise, Shepard. If I find a clan, if I find what I-I _want,_ I will be honored to eventually pit them against you.”

“Looking forward to it,” Rochelle says, and gives Grunt a nod, which he returns, before she deliberately puts her back to him, and leaves the hold.

Legion catches up to her in the elevator. “Shepard-Commander,” they say, and Rochelle doesn’t think she’s imagining the worry in their tone. “You allowed the krogan to rush you.”

“You can’t just talk to krogan, Legion,” Rochelle says, keying the elevator for her quarters. She needs another shower. “Fighting is just as much their language as words.”

“Shepard-Commander could have been injured.”

“Could have been,” Rochelle agrees. “ _Would_ have been, if it weren’t for these upgrades you guys gave me.”

Legion considers that for a moment, long enough for the elevator to chirp at them, the door sliding open. “Shepard-Commander?”

Rochelle pauses, putting out one hand to keep the door from shutting. “Yes, Legion?”

“If Shepard-Commander trusts the upgrades the geth implemented, does she also trust the geth?”

Rochelle shrugs one shoulder, her hand dropping as she gives Legion a slight smile. “What do you think?”

* * *

“I think this is a bad idea, Shep,” Kasumi mutters from Rochelle’s right, Legion on her left, as they disembark the _Normandy_ , entering Purgatory, the prison station. “Buying a criminal?”

“She’s a powerful biotic, more powerful than me,” Rochelle murmurs. “Be insane not to at least meet her.”

“Halt!” a guard calls, interrupting Kasumi before she can say anything. “Identify yourself.”

“Commander Rochelle Shepard and crew,” Rochelle calls back.

The guard consults a tablet. “Welcome to the Purgatory, Shepard,” he says after a moment. “Your package is being prepped, and you can claim it shortly. As this is a high-security vessel, you’ll need to relinquish your weapons before we can let you in.”

Rochelle draws her pistol, thumbing the safety off. “I’ll relinquish _one_ bullet,” she says calmly, gaze focused on the guard directly in front of her, ignoring the ones who have pulled their weapons on her and her squad. “Where do you want it?”

The doors behind the guard slide open, and another turian walks in. “Everyone stand down,” he orders, coming down the stairs to stand next to the guard Rochelle’s pointing a gun at. “Commander. I’m Warden Kuril, and this is my station. Your weapons will be returned on the way out; you must realize this is simply standard procedure.”

“Our weapons aren’t going anywhere,” Rochelle says flatly. “Period. If you insist, then I suppose we’ll just have to leave.”

The warden clearly wrestles with that for a moment before he nods once, sharply, and turns to the guard. “We’re more than well-enough equipped to deal with three people,” he says. “They’ll keep their weapons.” Kuril turns back to Rochelle, and there’s something about his eyes that she doesn’t like. “We’re bringing Jack out of cryo; as soon as the funds clear, you can be on your way. If you’ll follow me to Outprocessing, Commander.”

Rochelle pauses just long enough to make the guards shift on their feet before she holsters her weapon, Kasumi and Legion following suit. “Lead the way, Warden.”

Rochelle grills Kuril about Purgatory and Jack - “the meanest handful of hate and violence I’ve ever encountered” - as they walk, eventually splitting just before the door to Outprocessing. He directs them forward, and when the door opens to reveal a large room with several empty desks and only one tech, Rochelle’s instincts kick into high alert. “Weapons ready,” she murmurs, just loud enough for Kasumi and Legion to hear. “I don’t like this; feels like a trap.”

“What tipped you off?” Kasumi mutters sarcastically as Rochelle opens the door - only to see a cell on the other side.

Shit goes sideways rather spectacularly after that; Kuril tries to force Rochelle into the cell, but she fights back, and she, Legion, and Kasumi fight through to the cryo controls, releasing Jack - and all of the other cells in this block - to wreak havoc on the station. Jack tears through three YMIR mechs like they’re wet tissue paper, and Rochelle can’t help an impressed whistle; she’d at least break a sweat doing the same, but Jack just charges forward, through a wall and onward. They track her through the station by following the trail of destruction, and after finally taking down Kuril, the three of them catch up to Jack in the docking bay. She’s staring out the window at the _Normandy_ \- and the Cerberus logo prominently displayed next to the SR-2 on the hull - in a mix of shock, horror, and pure _rage._ She growls, pacing like a caged animal - and then startles, whirling, when Rochelle shoots a guard who’d been coming up on her blind spot while she was distracted.

She stares at Rochelle, distrustful, and Rochelle moves slowly, aiming her gun first at the ceiling, and then holsters it, telegraphing the movement. Once her gun is holstered, she straightens, her hands facing palm-out towards Jack. Jack’s expression morphs into a snarl, and she takes a step forward, her hands clenched into fists at her side. “What the hell do you want?”

Rochelle raises an eyebrow. “I just saved your ass,” she points out.

“He was already dead,” Jack spits. “He just didn’t know it. Now, _what the hell do you want?_ ”

“My name is Rochelle Shepard, and I’m here to get you off this ship,” Rochelle answers, as calmly as she can. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you, _Cerberus,_ ” Jack growls. 

“I’m not Cerberus,” Rochelle counters. “If anything, I’m geth.”

That brings Jack up short. “Then what the hell is that logo doing on your ship?” she asks suspiciously.

“Cerberus built the _Normandy_ SR-2,” Rochelle tells her. “They very kindly gave it to me to use on Spectre business.”

“What kind of business?”

“Hunting down the Collectors and kicking their teeth in.”

That gets a snort from Jack, and her posture eases slightly, though she still doesn’t relax. “I still don’t trust you, though.”

“Trust me or not, I’m the only one with a way off this station,” Rochelle points out. “I’m offering to be your friend. Trust me, you don’t want to be my enemy.”

“There is a high statistical probability of death by gunshot,” Legion chimes in. “A punch to the face is also likely.”

Oddly enough, it’s Legion’s words that finally get Jack to relax, though she doesn’t capitulate just yet. “You show up in a Cerberus frigate to take me away somewhere; you think I’m stupid or something?”

That sentence _reeks_ of personal history, and Rochelle pauses, weighing her words, before she speaks. “What would it take to get you to join us?”

“I bet a Cerberus ship is full of Cerberus files,” Jack says immediately. “I want access to any that involve me.”

Well, _that_ Rochelle can do. “Done,” she says immediately. “As soon as we get on the ship and undocked, you’ll have full access.”

Jack searches her expression for a long moment before she nods once, jerkily. “Fine. Let’s go, then.”

Jack shadows Rochelle through the _Normandy_ until she calls Miranda to the comm room; Miranda, predictably, balks at giving Jack access to Cerberus files. 

“The Illusive Man told me that Cerberus would cooperate fully with me,” Rochelle reminds her. “We need Jack, and in order for her to trust us, she needs those files. Otherwise, _you_ can explain to the Illusive Man why I left you on the Citadel and let a geth hack into Cerberus’ database.”

Miranda glares at her for a moment before sighing. “Very well, Shepard.”

Jack gives Miranda a saccharine smile. “You and I are going to be best friends, precious,” she coos. “You, me, and every embarrassing little secret.” She rocks back on her heels, giving Rochelle a look. “I’ll be reading down in the hold, somewhere near the bottom,” she says, turning for the door. “I don’t like a lot of through traffic.”

Silence falls behind her, and it’s only when the door shuts that Miranda speaks. “I joined you to work _with_ you, Shepard,” she says. “Not to be ordered around.”

Rochelle looks at Miranda sharply, surprised, but Miranda doesn’t back down, just meets Rochelle’s gaze evenly. Rochelle opts for honesty. “I don’t trust you much more than Jack does, Miranda. Not because of _you,_ but because you work for Cerberus, and the Illusive Man thinks so highly of you. I told you before, I know what Cerberus was doing two years ago, with the rachni and the Thorian and husks. And then the first thing I hear about them when I come back is that they’ve attacked the quarians, people that I consider allies? And _then_ the Illusive Man tries to manipulate me into working for Cerberus, using my ship and my crew against me? That doesn’t exactly inspire me to trust Cerberus.”

“Then you should try to get to know me,” Miranda says evenly. “We haven’t spoken except in passing since you took command of the _Normandy._ How can I earn your trust if you don’t speak to me?” Rochelle blinks, thrown; before she can say anything, Miranda heads for the door. “The Illusive Man wanted to speak with you,” she tosses over her shoulder. “He has news about the Collectors, and he remembers that Spectres don’t deal with second-in-commands.”

She’s gone before Rochelle can answer, the comm room falling silent behind her. Rochelle blows out a harsh breath. “EDI? Patch me through to the Illusive Man, please.”

“Right away, Commander.”

The table retracts into the floor, and Rochelle steps forward, staying still as the comm connects. The Illusive Man is sitting in the same chair as before, and he’s just finishing a cigarette as the call connects. “Shepard,” he says by way of greeting. “I think we have them. Horizon, another colony in the Terminus Systems, just went dark. If it isn’t under attack, it soon will be. Has Mordin delivered the countermeasure for the Seekers?”

“He’s been working on it,” Rochelle answers. “I’ll check in once we’re done here, make sure he has it finished by the time we arrive.”

“Let’s hope he works well under pressure,” the Illusive Man hums. “There’s something else you should know: One of your former crew, Ashley Williams, is stationed on Horizon.”

Rochelle stiffens at the mention of Ashley. “The Collectors just _happened_ to pick a colony with one of my former crew on it? I don’t buy that for a minute.”

“It shouldn’t be a surprise that the Collectors are interested in you,” he points out. “Especially if they’re working for the Reapers. They might be going after her to get to you.”

 _Maybe, but her location was classified the last time we talked._ “Ash is Alliance; what’s she doing in the Terminus Systems?”

“The Alliance recently gifted Horizon with defense turrets; Chief Williams is overseeing the installation as part of an outreach program to improve Alliance relations with the colonies. But they’re up to something; if they sent Chief Williams, it must be big.” Even in the hologram, Rochelle can see a glint in the Illusive Man’s eyes, a curve to his lips that means he’s holding something back. “Perhaps you should take it up with her,” he suggests, and Rochell holds back a snort.

“We’ll set course for Horizon immediately,” she says instead. “I appreciate the heads up.”

“Of course, Commander. Good luck, and godspeed.”

The call disconnects, and Rochelle goes in search of Legion; they have a better, more secure channel to the collective, and Rochelle wants every piece of information the collective can find on Ashley and Horizon - and any rumors that concerning Rochelle, Ashley, and Cerberus.

She’ll need to know where to start her pest extermination campaign once Horizon’s been investigated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a shorter chapter, but it didn't feel right tacking this mission onto the end of the last one, or the beginning of the next chapter. Next chapter, however, we finally reunite with Tali! And we're also going to take a trip to the final resting place of the SR-1.
> 
> Also, chapter count got shortened by one - was looking over my outline and decided to combine two chapters that would have been short by themselves into one, because I think that'll flow better!

When the shuttle drops them off, the first thing Rochelle notices is that Horizon is eerily quiet. The only sound is the wind and the hum of the seeker swarms still roaming the colony, presumably looking for any stragglers that they hadn’t paralyzed. 

The second thing she notices is the fuck-off huge Collector ship hovering over the colony. 

Still, the Collectors were expected, as were their swarms; Rochelle watches one such swarm buzz overhead, and frowns slightly. “We’re groundside,” she reports, drawing her shotgun and leading the way forward, Legion and Grunt following her lead. “Mordin, you sure this upgrade will protect us from those little bastards?”

“ _Certainty impossible,_ ” Mordin answers, and Rochelle gives in to the urge to roll her eyes. “ _But in limited numbers, should confuse seeker detection systems, make you invisible to swarms - in theory._ ”

“‘In theory,’” Rochelle echoes, unimpressed.

“ _Experimental technology,_ ” Mordin reminds her, tone cheerful. “ _Only test left is contact with seeker swarms. Look forward to seeing if you survive!_ ”

Rochelle rolls her eyes again, but starts forward nonetheless. She stays on the balls of her feet, steps light, ready to react at a moment’s notice. The quiet is unnerving, but it, combined with the geth technology in her brain, _does_ mean that she hears the Collectors before they hear her. She holds up a fist, then gestures for Legion, with their sniper rifle, to set up just behind the corner while she and Grunt edge forward, ducking behind some large crates. Rochelle peers around the corner, assessing, and then blinks three times. “Three on the ground, one across the clearing,” she murmurs, just barely loud enough for Grunt to hear, as the same message flits across the edge of her vision, giving Legion the information they need, as well. “Lone Collector has sniper rifle; others have assault.”

 **Acknowledged,** Legion sends, and Rochelle takes a deep breath, reaches for her biotics, and looks at Grunt. She gestures for him to take the one on the right, closest to the buildings, while she takes the one of the left, farthest from them. Grunt grins, and Rochelle returns it.

Her biotics flare, building around her in a hot, purple wave - and then she _charges._

It feels good to slam into the Collector, knocking it to the ground and firing a shot into its fucking _face_ before she ducks into cover, swapping her shotgun for her pistol to distract the third Collector as Grunt finishes off his first target. Grunt charges the Collector into a crate, and Rochelle empties the rest of her thermal clip into its head while Legion takes care of the Collector sniper with two well-placed shots. 

“They’re like giant bugs,” Grunt comments, joining Rochelle where she’s scanning the Collector she’d taken down first. “Squishy under that crunchy armor.”

Rochelle makes a face. “That’s a disgusting mental image,” she informs Grunt, “but I can’t argue. We can’t get complacent, though; this was a small group, and we’re on the far side of the colony. I expect we’ll find bigger groups the further in we go.”

“More bugs to squish,” Grunt chuckles, checking over his shotgun as Legion catches up with them. 

“In large groups, even ants can be deadly to organics,” Legion comments. “We recommend caution as we investigate.”

“Killjoy,” Grunt grunts.

“Children, play nice,” Rochelle says absently, reading the results of her scan as they flicker across her vision. “Grunt, make sure you’re using the incendiary ammo; that, or armor-piercing. You’re not wrong about them being squishy on the inside.”

“Understood,” Grunt says, fiddling with his shotgun.

Rochelle straightens, drawing her own shotgun and making sure it’s programmed correctly before she rolls her shoulders. “Let’s move out.”

They make it around the corner before static crackles over the comms to the _Normandy._ “ _Comman… -tting all kinds… -ference. We can’t main-..._ ”

“Joker?” Rochelle demands, pausing. There’s no answer; only static. “ _Fuck,_ ” she swears.

“The Collector ship is likely blocking communications,” Legion theorizes.

“We’re on our own now,” Rochelle says grimly. “Eyes open; we can’t risk getting caught by surprise.”

Legion and Grunt nod, and the three of them start forward once more. Around the next corner, they drop over a small wall and into a courtyard near some dorms - and are confronted with not only Collectors, but husks. Rochelle swears, ducking behind cover, and takes a split second to determine where the enemies are. Once she has their positions in mind, she _charges,_ slamming into a husk and making it shatter, turning and firing two shots into the back of a Collector’s skull, dodges a second husk before shooting it as well, and then _charges_ again, knocking another Collector sniper out from behind its barrier, opening up a shot for Legion.

Grunt finishes off his side of the courtyard, damn near _cackling_ all the while, and the three of them meet next to one of the husk bodies. “These are almost like the husks from Eden Prime,” Rochelle says, squatting down for a better look.

“That’s Reaper tech, isn’t it?” Grunt asks, glancing at the husk before lifting his gaze and scanning their surroundings. “Means the geth and the Illusive Man were right; the Collectors must work for the Reapers.”

“It seems like it,” Rochelle mutters, frowning. “These are more advanced than Sovereign’s husks, though. Almost... _evolved_. But I don’t see any Dragon’s Teeth.”

“‘Dragon’s Teeth’?”

“When Sovereign had control, the geth would impale humans on these giant spikes,” Rochelle explains. “They converted humans into husks. But there aren’t any here; the Collectors brought these husks with them.”

“The absence of Dragon’s Teeth indicates a desire for living captives,” Legion finishes, following Rochelle’s line of thought.

“Exactly. But what the fuck do the Collectors want with living humans?”

“Living captives implies experimentation,” Legion offers.

Rochelle makes a face. “That’s not a comforting thought.” She pushes herself to her feet, and sighs. “Let’s go; if we hurry, we might still be able to save some of the colonists.”

The three of them sweep the colony methodically, clearing out pockets of Collectors and husks wherever they find them. At one point, Rochelle picks up a _really_ nice-looking gun; it’s clearly a Collector make, but when Rochelle aims it at a patch of dirt a good distance away and pulls the trigger, a beam of light streaks from the barrel and burrows at least three feet into the ground - and she only had the trigger compressed for a second. “Oh, I _like_ you,” she purrs, hefting the gun. “I think I just found my new favorite toy.” Grunt looks exceedingly jealous, and Rochelle promises to share, which mollifies him.

She gets to test out her new gun in the next fight; this is the largest group of Collectors they’ve faced yet, surrounded by pods that look like mutated chrysalises, and one of them _convulses,_ lifting off of the ground while light bursts from within - and when it drops, a voice speaks, addressing Rochelle. It taunts her, tells her there’s nothing she can do, that she can’t stop the Collectors; it gloats whenever one of the Collectors lands a hit on her, and when Grunt destroys that Collector, another breaks and reforms in the same way, and the voice continues as if it hadn’t been interrupted.

“Sounds like someone’s got a grudge,” Grunt comments when they finally take down the last of this group. 

“Must be whatever Reaper is controlling them,” Rochelle mutters, kicking idly at a Collector corpse, one of the ones who’d been used by the voice, by the one who called itself the ‘harbinger of your destruction.’ “Can’t wait to kick these fuckers’ teeth in. Let’s go; we’re getting close to that ship, might be able to find a way to get the comms back up.”

They press on, skirting around some paralyzed colonists the Collectors hadn’t picked up yet, and eventually find their way into a maintenance garage; Rochelle catches the sound of movement, and in a moment, her pistol is in her hand, pointed at the shelves. “Get out here,” she orders, body tense, ready to move. “ _Now._ ”

A middle-aged man’s head pokes from around the shelving, and Rochelle relaxes, letting her gun drop so that it’s pointed at the ground. “You’re… you’re human!” the man exclaims, stepping out into the garage. “What are you doing here? You’ll lead them right to me!”

Rochelle snorts. “I cleared a path,” she retorts. “You’re lucky you’re not in the hold of a Collector ship right now.”

The man pales. “Collectors? That’s what those things are? They’re _real?_ ”

“Real enough to take half the colony,” Grunt mutters.

“I thought they were just Alliance propaganda! You know, to keep us in Council space, under their thumb!” He starts pacing, tone turning frantic. “They got Lilith, I saw her go down. Sten, too - they got damn near everybody!”

“I need to know what I’m up against,” Rochelle says firmly, stepping forward and interrupting him before he can work himself into a panic attack. “Tell me everything you remember.”

The man blinks, and then visibly takes a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling before he speaks. “We lost our comm signals a few hours ago,” he starts. “I came down to check on the main power grid. Then, I heard screaming.” He swallows. “I looked outside, and there was just… _swarms_ of these weird-ass bugs, all over the colony. Everyone they touched just. Froze. I sealed the doors before any could get in.” He shakes his head, expression turning fierce as he starts pacing again. “Damn it, this is all the Alliance’s fault! They stated that damned Chief Williams here and built those _fucking_ ‘defense towers’ and they made us a goddamn target!”

Rochelle fights to keep her tone even as she requests, “Tell me more about this Alliance rep.”

“Chief Williams? Heard she was some kind of _hero_ or something,” he scoffs. “Don’t mean nothing to me, though; would’ve rather she just stayed back in Council space.”

“Why did the Alliance send Chief Williams?” Rochelle presses, striving for patience in the face of this man’s dismissiveness and _hostility_ towards Ashley.

“She was _supposed_ to be helping us get the defense towers up and running,” he spits. “But everyone knew she was here for something else. Spying on us, maybe. Can’t trust those Alliance fucks.”

“Tell me about the colony defense towers,” Rochelle orders, trying to keep him on track. “Why would the Alliance send them? What are they?”

“They’re some big old guns that can’t fucking shoot straight,” the man sneers. “We had to dig a whole new power grid for them, but there’s all these _errors_ in the calibration system, Williams says, and every time we fire them up to try to figure it out, we make ourselves a huge fuckin’ target. We’re just a small colony; nobody bothered us before we started building those damn things and drew attention to ourselves, and now we’ve got fucking space bugs showing up and kidnapping half the damned colony!”

“The Collectors aim to take the entire colony, if they hold true to their pattern,” Legion says helpfully, and Rochelle winces.

“We’re here to stop them before that can happen,” she assures the man, who’s turned an alarming shade of purple. “We can use those guns to rock the Collector ship, make it too dangerous for it to stay here.”

“They’re useless!” he protests. 

“Not with my people,” Rochelle says confidently. “We’ll get them fixed and get the Collectors moving.”

He eyes them doubtfully for a moment before sighing. “The main transmitter’s on the other side of the colony; pretty hard to miss. The targeting computer’s at the base. I’ll let you out, but I’m sealing the doors behind you.”

“Smart idea,” Rochelle tells him, gesturing for Legion and Grunt to follow her as she walks towards the other set of doors. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Sure you will.”

* * *

The transmitter is just as easy to find, and with a direct connection to it, Legion is able to connect their comms to the _Normandy,_ combining their processing power with EDI’s to fix the errors in the calibration software. Of course, as soon as they power up the guns, they draw the attention of every damned Collector left in Horizon, and Rochelle and Grunt are kept plenty busy keeping them off of Legion so that they and EDI can finish their task. Rochelle uses the last of the power cells for the particle gun she picked up earlier on two huge husks - scions, the geth collective helpfully informs her in a brief break between waves of enemies - who seemed to just absorb the bullets from her pistol and Grunt’s shotgun. 

Then, some huge Collector _beast_ flies into view, and Rochelle swears loud enough that the guy in the garage probably hears her. She and Grunt stay in cover, taunting the beast around the clearing, keeping its focus on them and away from Legion - and just as Grunt finally takes it down with a charge that smashes its face in, Legion calls, “Targeting systems online! Calibration complete. Firing in three, two, one - “

The GARDIAN lasers fire with a kick that Rochelle can feel in her chest; the impact of the lasers hitting the Collector ship echoes across the colony, the lasers cutting huge swathes of material away - and the Collector ship trembles, and starts to lift.

Rochelle watches in awe, and a little bit of disbelief, as it takes off; surely it can’t be _that_ easy?

But it is; the Collector ship disappears through the atmosphere, and Rochelle lets out a breath, chest clenching at the thought of those colonists who had already been loaded into the ship. 

“No!” the man from before cries; Rochelle had even heard him approach, but he’s shoving past her, watching the Collector ship leave. “No, you - you have to stop them, they have Lilith, and Fred, and - and - “

“There’s no catching that ship,” Rochelle says, as gently as she can. “I’m sorry, I did everything I could.”

“It was a good fight, Shepard,” Grunt assures her; Rochelle doesn’t have a chance to look at him before the man is whipping around, staring at Rochelle in shock.

“‘Shepard’? I know that name,” he says, eyes narrowed. “You’re some type of big Alliance hero - “

“Commander Shepard,” a voice breaks in, and Rochelle freezes for a moment, whirling to see - _Ashley,_ her armor scuffed and dented, hair a mess, but _alive_. “Captain of the _Normandy._ The first human Spectre, savior of the Citadel.” She comes up, stands beside the man, and props her hand on one hip, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re in the presence of a god, Delan,” she says, and there’s an unmistakably sarcastic catch to her voice. “Back from the _dead._ ”

“Figures _you’re_ still here,” Delan spits, disgusted. “Screw this; I’ve had enough of you damn Alliance types.” He turns and stalks off, and Rochelle watches him go for a moment before she turns back to Ashley, ‘hello’ ready on her lips - 

And is greeted with Ashley’s pistol leveled at her face. 

Rochelle sighs. “I wish I wasn’t surprised,” she says, keeping her hands carefully away from her own weapons. “Tali and Anderson did the same thing.”

“You show up after _two goddamn years_ with a damned geth at your side!” Ashley snaps. “And there’s rumors about you and Cerberus - “

Rochelle’s eyes narrow. “I’ll have to take care of those; I _warned_ the Illusive Man - “

“So you’re working for Cerberus?” Ashley demands, gun never wavering.

“I’m working for the _galaxy,_ Ash,” Rochelle says. “Cerberus rebuilt the _Normandy,_ but they gave it to me. I knew I couldn’t fucking trust the Illusive Man, though; I’ll have to stomp out those rumors, I told him I wasn’t working with Cerberus - “

“And what about _that?_ ” Ashley snarls, gesturing with her pistol at Legion, standing to Rochelle’s left. “That’s a fucking _geth,_ Commander, and last I remember, you were wiping the rest of them out, not fighting with them!”

Rochelle sighs. “It’s a long story, Ash - But the gist of it is, when the _Normandy_ was destroyed, Legion - “ She gestures towards Legion, who, to their credit, does nothing more than nod “ - found my body. They brought it to a geth dreadnought, and back to Rannoch, where they brought _me_ back to life.”

“You expect me to believe that the geth decided to save an organic life?” 

“Shepard-Commander is important to the galaxy, and integral to the efforts to defeat the Reapers,” Legion says, seemingly unfazed when Ashley’s pistol moves to their face. “We do not wish for the Reapers to wipe out organic life.”

“You were working with Saren and Sovereign,” Ashley hisses.

“That was a mistake.”

Ashley blinks, thrown, and Rochelle steps in. “Ash, you saw me tear geth apart on Eden Prime, and while we fought Saren,” she says. “I wouldn’t work with them if they were lying; they aren’t, because they _can’t._ ”

“Geth do not lie,” Legion confirms. “We state objective facts, and follow the most logical course of action which the collective achieves consensus on.”

“Not helpful, Legion.”

Ashley’s gaze flicks from Legion to Rochelle, back and forth several times, before she finally lowers her pistol. “It’s really you?” she asks, studying Rochelle intently. “You’re not being - _controlled?_ ”

“I’d sooner kill myself than let someone else control me, _especially_ to use me as a damned puppet.”

That finally gets Ashley to relax, to holster her gun and take a step forward. “I would have followed you anywhere, Commander,” she says, and now Rochelle can hear the slight break in her voice, glimpse the pain behind it. “I thought you were _gone_. I… You were _more_ than our Commander. Why didn’t you try to contact me? Why didn’t you let me know you were _alive?_ ”

Rochelle swallows. “I was unconscious for most of the past two years,” she says. “A year and five months, I think. Communication past the Perseus Veil is… spotty, at best. When we finally left to investigate the attacks on the colonies, I asked Anderson about you, and he said you were on a classified mission, he couldn’t let me contact you, and I didn’t want to put you at risk if you were in deep cover.”

Ashley searches her gaze, and then she shakes her head. “You’re really with the geth? And using Cerberus resources? After everything they did - “

“I’m using what I have to work with,” Rochelle says - _pleads._ “They gave me a way to get started immediately, but I don’t answer to Cerberus, or to the geth.”

“The geth will follow Shepard-Commander’s orders.”

“ _Not helpful,_ Legion.”

Ashley takes a slow step back. “I believe you’re _you,_ Commander, but - Alliance intel said that Cerberus could be behind our missing colonies. We got a tip that Horizon could be the next one to get hit.”

Rochelle grits her teeth. “So they send you, and those guns, and then the Collectors showed up and I followed,” she finishes.

“I went to Anderson, but he wouldn’t confirm anything,” Ashley says, still looking intently at Rochelle. “There were rumors you were alive, that you’d even gotten Spectre status back - but there were rumors you were working for the enemy.”

“I’m going to shove my boot up the Illusive Man’s ass,” Rochelle mutters. 

Ashley shakes her head, but now her expression is conflicted. “I wanted to believe you were alive,” she confesses. “I just never expected - You’ve turned your back on everything we stood for!”

“Ash,” Rochelle says, pained, stepping forward, almost within reach. “You know me. I do what I need to to get the job done. You saw it yourself, the Collectors are targeting human colonies, and they’re working with the Reapers. We need every resource we can get to take them down.”

“I’d like to believe you, Shepard,” Ashley whispers. “But I don’t trust Cerberus, and I don’t trust the geth - and it worries me that _you_ do. Even if they brought you back to life, even if they can’t lie - what’s to stop them from deciding that your orders aren’t the ones they should follow?”

Rochelle takes a deep breath. “So that’s it, then?”

“I’m an Alliance soldier, Shepard,” Ashley says, squaring her shoulders. “I know where my loyalties lie. I’m reporting back to the Citadel; I’ll let them decide if they believe your story.”

“You could come with us,” Rochelle offers, because if she doesn’t, she knows she’ll regret it. “See for yourself. I could use someone like you on my squad, Ash.”

“I can’t,” Ashley says, shaking her head and backing away. “I remember Eden Prime, the Citadel - and Cerberus has a history of being extremist. I can’t work with them, or the geth.”

Rochelle swallows back another argument, and nods. “Alright. Stay safe, Ash.”

Ashley gives Rochelle a tight smile. “You too, Rochelle.”

* * *

Rochelle wishes that she could slam the door to the comm room open, but sadly, the design doesn’t allow for that. She settles for stomping over to the table, snapping an order for EDI to connect her to the Illusive Man. She barely waits for the call to connect before snarling, “I _told you_ I’d find out if you started some goddamn rumors about me working for you. I took your resources, let your agents stay on the _Normandy_ in the interest of being _civil,_ and that is _it._ Ash said the Alliance got a tip about me and Cerberus.”

Something sparks in the Illusive Man’s eyes. “I suspected the Collectors were looking for you, or people connected to you. Now I know for certain - and we can use that to our advantage.”

“You did that without consulting me,” Rochelle snaps. 

“It was a risk, but we couldn’t just wait for them to take another colony; we needed to know where they would strike next. You understand, Commander.”

“You put lives at risk!” Rochelle barks. “If you had told me what you were planning to do, we could have gotten there sooner, and saved more of the colonists.”

“I want the colonies to be safe, Shepard - “

“Then you better damn well start acting like it,” Rochelle hisses. “Or I’ll make my next stop the closest Cerberus base, and I will wipe you from the galaxy piece. By. Piece.”

The Illusive Man sets his jaw, straightening in his seat. “I’m devoting all Cerberus resources to finding a way through the Omega 4 relay,” he informs her. “The sooner we can stop the Collector threat, the sooner our… _association_ can end.”

“Looking forward to it,” Rochelle says shortly. “Pull another stunt like this, and I’ll devote my _own_ resources to hunting you down.”

She hits the disconnect button before the Illusive Man can say anything else.


	7. Chapter 7

After her infuriating and unsatisfactory ‘talk’ with the Illusive Man, Rochelle makes a round of the _Normandy,_ talking with her crew and squad, reminding herself of why she’s here, and distracting herself by getting to know the crew. She’s surprised by Jacob’s friendliness, his matter-of-fact concession to Cerberus’ shady past. They manage to have a frank discussion about Cerberus, why Rochelle distrusted them from the start - and Jacob agrees that the Illusive Man should have told her his plan to try to lure the Collectors in, not only because the _Normandy_ could have gotten there sooner, maybe saved more colonists, but because he’d agreed to play by Rochelle’s rules, and keep out of her way.

Rochelle leaves the armory feeling slightly unsettled, recalling Miranda’s admonishment about not being able to earn Rochelle’s trust if they don’t talk. She’s not willing to give all of Cerberus a chance, not after the Illusive Man’s stunt, but Miranda, Jacob, and the crew… She’s willing to give them a chance, since they’re right here on the front lines with her.

Mind made up, Rochelle takes the elevator to the third deck, and makes her first stop at Miranda’s office. Miranda is clearly surprised to see her - and a little suspicious - but Rochelle does what she always does when faced with awkward social situations: barrel through. It seems to work with Miranda; Rochelle’s blunt words and dry tone seem to convince her that Rochelle doesn’t have any more superior motive than getting to know the people on the _Normandy,_ and Miranda relaxes. Her sense of humor is surprisingly similar to Rochelle’s, and her attitude… Well, she’s still a bit _superior_ for Rochelle’s tastes, but Rochelle doesn’t let herself start an argument, and the conversation is surprisingly productive. Miranda is more loyal to the Illusive Man than she is to Cerberus as a whole - and she’s a bit bitter that the geth got a hold of Rochelle’s body so quickly, since she was to be the head of what would be called the Lazarus Project, aimed at bringing Rochelle back to life. But she assures Rochelle that, while she’s loyal to the Illusive Man, she’ll follow Rochelle’s orders while part of the _Normandy._ Rochelle still doesn’t trust Miranda, not entirely, but… 

Well, it would be pretty damn stupid to keep refusing to make use of a willing resource, wouldn’t it?

Rochelle finishes her rounds with a chat with Jack and a game of Skyllian Five with the two young engineers in the drive core; she loses a hundred credits, but it’s not a bad price to pay to get closer to her crew, to help them feel at ease around her and quit treating her as the invincible Commander Shepard. It’s as she’s leaving the drive core that she receives a message from Legion.

**Shepard-Commander; news from the collective.**

Rochelle pauses. **Where are you?**

**We are in the AI core of the _Normandy._**

**On my way.**

Rochelle frowns, mind working, as she waits for the elevator to bring her up a level. She passes Doctor Chakwas in the med bay, giving the doctor an absent nod on her way to the AI core. As promised, Legion is there, and waiting for her. “Shepard-Commander. We have received word of a quarian patrol in geth space,” they say by way of greeting. “Creator Tali'Zorah is part of this invasion force.”

Rochelle blinks. “Invasion force? Are you sure?”

“The consensus is eighty-seven-point-three-five-six percent certain; almost all quarian patrols found in geth space to date have carried transmissions indicating they are gathering data for the Creators to use in an attempt to retake Rannoch.”

“Tali wouldn’t put her people at risk like that,” Rochelle argues. “Where was her patrol spotted?”

“Entering the atmosphere of Haestrom,” Legion reports. “It is a planet in the Dholen system of the Far Rim.”

Rochelle frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Dholen’s star is highly unstable; it is likely to erupt into a red giant millennia before it should,” Legion informs her. “The creators established a colony on Haestrom to mine for resources and study the star; the geth have used the colony for the same purposes since the Morning War.”

“ _Right,_ the solar radiation from the star is lethal to organics, I remember reading about that,” Rochelle remembers. “Couldn’t Tali and her team be there for the same reasons you are?”

“It is possible,” Legion concedes.

“So let’s send a message to get the geth to leave them alone - “

“Communications in the Dholen system are intermittent at best,” Legion informs her. “The radiation from the star - “

“Fine,” Rochelle interrupts, “then we’ll go ourselves. EDI, tell Joker to plot a course for Haestrom.” EDI gives a confirmation, and then Rochelle notices that Legion is looking at her with their head tilted, the way they do whenever Rochelle has just confused them. “What?”

“Shepard-Commander does not know that Creator Tali'Zorah desires her help,” they point out.

“Well, I know what the geth tend to do to quarian patrols in geth space,” Rochelle retorts. “Or _any_ organic patrol in geth space.” She taps her temple, giving Legion a meaningful look. “I know you guys operate purely off of the data you have and can collect, but I’m a little more inclined to give people the benefit of the doubt - especially when one of those people is a friend of mine.”

“Creator Tali'Zorah has not demonstrated any sympathy for the geth, and has demonstrated hostility on multiple occasions,” Legion points out.

“Because she’s a quarian, whose people were chased from their homeworld - after they tried to wipe _your_ people out, I know. But she grew up hearing that geth were evil machines, and then she fought Saren and Sovereign and the geth who followed them,” Rochelle reminds them. “And ever since I joined the Alliance, ever since humanity joined the rest of the galaxy, all we’ve heard is the same thing. It took me a _month_ before I’d spend any time with you outside of the diagnostics, remember? It took me six months to decide I couldn’t keep calling you ‘the geth’ and gave you a name.”

Legion appears to consider that for a long moment. “Shepard-Commander wishes to help her friend,” they finally say, not quite a statement, but not quite a question, either.

“Yes.”

Legion looks at her for a long moment, and Rochelle gets the feeling they want to ask something else - but then they turn, and the moment passes.

* * *

“Remind me again, how dangerous is this sun?” Rochelle asks, voice pitched to carry over the sound of the shuttle taking off after dropping her and Legion on Haestrom near the origin of the report Legion had passed on.

Rochelle watches a bug get too close to the edge of the shady patch they’re in - and when it ventures into the sun, its pace turns frantic, but it can’t outrace the danger, and collapses, legs twitching, as Legion answers. “Radiation from Dholen’s star has overwhelmed Haestrom’s magnetosphere; exposure to direct sunlight will overload shields, and harm organics.”

“So stay out of the sunlight, got it,” Rochelle mutters absently, rolling her shoulders. The majority of her attention fixed on the readouts scrolling at the edge of her vision. She huffs in frustration. “Legion, can you connect to the geth here?”

“No, Shepard-Commander; the radiation is interfering with communications. We will need to find a way to boost the signal short-range, or directly interface with a geth unit.”

“Great.” Rochelle sighs, and then gestures for Legion to follow her. “Let’s hope we don’t run into any who like to shoot first, ask questions later.”

“That is a human saying, Shepard-Commander.”

Rochelle’s lips twitch despite herself as she skirts a sunny patch, darting for the next spot of shade; she doesn’t want to damage her shields any more than necessary. “Yes it is, Legion.”

Her smile doesn’t last long; at the end of the first road that they travel down, they come to a gate - and outside it are several geth platforms, damaged beyond repair, and two dead quarians. As they enter the gate house, they trigger a recording. “ _Emergency log entry: The geth are here,_ ” one of the dead quarians reports. “ _I’ve stayed behind to buy the others time. Anyone who gets this, find Tali'Zorah. She and that data are all that matters! Keelah se’lai._ ”

Rochelle swallows. “ _Keelah se’lai,_ ” she murmurs, turning from the dead quarian - there’s nothing she can do for him now, other than scan his omnitool and record his name to give to Tali when they find her. She unlocks the gate, walks through it - and throws herself to the side and into cover as the geth on the other side open fire. “Fuck! Legion, tell them to stop!”

Legion nods, stepping around Rochelle and into view of the geth; the gunfire ceases, and Legion says something in the native geth language, the language that Rochelle can only translate if she’s concentrating. The geth say something back, and then Legion steps forward. Rochelle, on the other hand, stays put until Legion calls, “We have explained the situation, Shepard-Commander; it is safe.”

Rochelle pushes herself to her feet, and approaches Legion and the other geth cautiously; she’d gotten used to the ones on Rannoch, but seeing these geth that she didn’t recognize, that she couldn’t immediately communicate, that had _opened fire on her,_ made her wary. “Shepard-Commander,” the geth hunter next to Legion says in greeting. “We apologize; we did not realize it was your shuttle that had entered the atmosphere.”

“Apology accepted,” Rochelle says, eyeing it warily. “Legion explained what we’re doing here?”

“Yes. The unit named ‘Legion’ explained that Shepard-Commander wishes to speak to Creator Tali’Zorah. It said Shepard-Commander believes her intentions to be peaceful.”

“I do,” Rochelle confirms. “Do you know where she is?”

“Yes. May we interface?” It holds out a hand, and Rochelle swallows before holding out her own, the contacts on her palm connecting with the hunter’s. 

She sucks in a breath as a sharp stinging sensation races up her arm, but then - at the edge of her vision, a stream of data from this geth unit. “Am I connected to the rest of the geth here?”

“Yes. Communications to the rest of the collective - “

“Are intermittent, I know, Legion mentioned.” Rochelle takes a breath and then blinks three times. “Attention, all geth units: By order of Commander Shepard, _stand down._ I repeat, _stand down!_ Commander Shepard wishes to speak with the surviving quarians.”

She holds her breath, and then - **Acknowledged, Shepard-Commander.** A cacophony of noise from elsewhere in the colony suddenly ceases, and Rochelle barely has time to realize that means the geth are no longer trying to kill whichever quarians are still alive - _God,_ Rochelle hopes that Tali’s one of them, that they aren’t _that_ late - before the data at the edge of her vision changes, showing a map. Coordinates come through, along with another message: **Holding two surviving quarians outside of Creator observatory; coordinates attached.**

Rochelle blows out a breath. **Do not injure them; inform them that Commander Shepard is on her way,** she sends back. “Legion, come on; sooner we get over there, the better.”

“Acknowledged, Shepard-Commander.”

Even skirting the sunlight, it doesn’t take long for Rochelle and Legion to make their way across the quarian colony to the coordinates the other geth had sent; the first quarian they encounter is a male in a red suit, who is holding a geth unit at gunpoint. “You will not get near my suit,” he snarls. “You were just trying to _kill me_ a moment ago, and now you want to _help me?_ ”

“This unit wishes - “

“Geth don’t _wish!_ ”

Rochelle clears her throat; the quarian whirls, gun fixed on her now, but she nods to the geth. “Give Legion that kit,” she says. “I’ll talk to the quarian.” 

The geth complies, while the quarian stays perfectly still; the angle of the sunlight makes it impossible to see even a vague expression beneath his helmet. “Who are you?” he demands.

“I’m Commander Rochelle Shepard, of the _Normandy,_ ” Rochelle answers. “And you are?”

“Squad Leader Kal’Reegar, Migrant Fleet Marines,” he replies, still wary. “What’s a human doing with a _geth?_ ”

“Long story short, I died two years ago, and the geth brought me back.”

Kal’Reegar jerks like he’s been shocked. “Wait, you’re _Tali’s_ Commander Shepard?”

Rochelle raises an eyebrow. “As far as I know, there’s just one of me.” She gestures to his suit. “You’ve got a pretty bad puncture there. I can’t fix it, but Legion can.”

“You mean the geth you brought with you?” Rochelle nods, and Kal’Reegar snorts. “Why would I let a geth touch my suit?”

“Because they’ve saved at least one quarian life already?” Rochelle suggests. “Prazza would have died at Freedom’s Progress from his stupid charge at an YMIR mech if Legion hadn’t patched his suit up. And if Legion patches you up, you’ll be less likely to get an infection - or at least you won’t get a bad one, anyway.”

Kal’Reegar looks from Rochelle to Legion and back, staying quiet for a long moment before he finally nods, sharply and just the once. “Fine. Do it.”

Rochelle gestures to Legion, who approaches carefully, the kit held in easy view. The hole in Kal’Reegar’s suit is on the side opposite the hand holding the pistol, and he doesn’t put it away; Legion doesn’t pay attention, though, simply getting to work quickly and effectively. Rochelle glances around, and then frowns. “Where’s Tali?”

“She’s in the observatory,” Kal’Reegar says, the majority of his attention still on Legion, every line in his body tense. “She locked down the door; I was keeping the geth occupied so she could get the data she was sent for. The rest of our squad have been killed by the geth.”

Rochelle speaks up before Legion or any of the other units present can. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she says. “They thought you were a scouting party for an invasion, but still, I’m sorry.”

Kal’Reegar glances at her and nods. “I appreciate that. The geth said you wanted to speak to us about something? Hell of a shock when they all quit firing and the colossus shut down, and then one of them _spoke_ to me.”

“I got a report about Tali being spotted in geth space,” Rochelle explains. “When I heard it was here, and we couldn’t get the geth to stop because of the comm interference… We got here as soon as we could, to try to diffuse the situation.”

“Wish you’d gotten here sooner, ma’am,” Kal’Reegar says bluntly, but without hostility, as Legion steps back.

“Creator Kal’Reegar’s suit is patched,” they inform him. “We have injected antibiotics and sterilizing agents compatible with his suit and system to counteract any potential contaminants lingering in the suit.”

Kal’Reegar glances down, twisting so he can examine Legion’s work for himself. “Well. Not bad,” he concedes, and then looks up. “You’re still too close, geth.”

“Apologies, Creator Kal’Reegar.” Legion obligingly returns to Rochelle’s side.

“Right, well.” Kal’Reegar clears his throat. “You wanted to talk to Tali? She’s on the other side of the courtyard. I’d feel a lot better going with you, though. No offense.”

“None taken,” Rochelle assures him. “Let’s go.”

The walk across the courtyard is quiet, tense and a little awkward, with Kal’Reegar unsure of where to walk; next to Rochelle, and furthest from Legion but closer to the geth who were just trying to kill him a moment ago? Or between Rochelle and Legion, who patched his suit, but is still a geth, and closer than any of the others? Rochelle leaves to him to it, but can’t help a slight smile when he finally settles between Rochelle and Legion as they approach the final ramp. He pulls out a radio, telling Tali that he and Rochelle are on the other side of the door, and with a groan of ancient machinery unused to moving, the door unlocks and opens. 

It shuts behind them, but Rochelle can’t blame Tali for that bit of paranoia. Tali’s standing at a terminal on the other side of the room, and Rochelle ignores the way her heart seems to flip over in her chest as she approaches, and Tali turns. “Rochelle,” she says, the smile clear in her tone. “It’s good to see you, even if you do turn up in the damnedest places.”

“Good to see you, too, Tali,” Rochelle says warmly. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.”

“We all knew the risks, coming into geth space,” Kal’Reegar interrupts. “We were all prepared to give our lives for the Fleet, and Tali’s mission.”

“Thank you, Reegar,” Tali says, something brittle in her tone. “I wish it hadn’t come to that, though.” This whole mission has been a disaster,” she continues, turning back to Rochelle. “We knew it would be dangerous going in, but I couldn’t let anyone else take my place on something this risky, not with the data we needed to get.”

“What data is that?” Rochelle asks, curious.

“About the Haestrom’s sun; the observation satellites here have been continuing to operate ever since the geth war,” Tali explains. “This star is dying faster than it should, and this colony was established to monitor it. Our mission was to recover the data it’s collected since we were forced out.”

“Was the data worth it?”

Tali sighs. “I don’t know,” she admits. “It wasn’t my call. The Admiralty Board believed that data was worth our lives; I have to believe they know what’s best.”

“I didn’t ask what some admiral I don’t know thought,” Rochelle says, gently but firmly. “I asked what _you_ thought.”

“A lot of people died here, Rochelle,” Tali says fiercely. “Some of them were my friends, and all of them were good at their jobs, and all of them had _families!_ ” She pauses, taking a breath. “That damned data _better_ be worth it; the price was too high.”

Rochelle nods; she sympathises with the feeling, knowing that whatever you accomplished, it would never be worth the lives that were lost. “Well, like I said, I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.”

“Why did you come? How did you know we were here?”

Rochelle jerks a thumb at Legion. “We received a report from the collective that a quarian shuttle was spotted entering Haestrom’s atmosphere. The collective were eight-something percent sure - “

“Eighty-seven-point-three-five-six percent,” Legion says helpfully.

“ - that your shuttle was a scouting party for another attempt to retake Rannoch and exterminate the geth,” Rochelle finishes. “I knew you wouldn’t put your people at risk like that, though, so I tried to get them to back off - but we couldn’t connect to the local platforms, because of the radiation. So we had to come in person.”

Rochelle can hear the raised eyebrow in Tali’s tone. “You came all this way, to a planet you can’t step into the sunlight on, just to make sure I was okay?”

“Well, you and the rest of the patrol,” Rochelle says, feeling her cheeks heat. “And I - I wanted to get in touch with you, ask if you’d be willing to join me. On the _Normandy,_ I mean.”

That seems to take Tali aback. “Really? You want me on your crew again?”

“You’re one of my best friends, and _the_ best damn engineer I’ve ever known, Tali,” Rochelle laughs. “Of course I want you on my crew. I’d have asked back at Freedom’s Progress, but you needed to get Veetor and Prazza off-planet and back to the Fleet.”

“Oh,” Tali says softly; Rochelle can’t read her expression, or glean anything from just that one word. She glances at Kal’Reegar, and then back to Rochelle, her shoulders squaring. “I promised to see this mission through, and I did. I can leave with you and send the data back with Reegar.”

Rochelle glances at Kal’Reegar, who nods and straightens, squaring his shoulders as well. “I’ll make sure it’s delivered safely to the Admiralty Board, ma’am,” he promises.

“Good; if the Admirals have a problem with me joining you and not delivering that in person, then they can go to hell,” Tali declares; Rochelle barely bites back a surprised laugh. “I just watched the rest of my team die for that data.”

“I’ll let them know what happened,” Kal’Reegar adds, and then turns to Rochelle. “She’s all yours now, Shepard. Keep her safe.”

Rochelle straightens, and nods. “I’ll do my best.”

* * *

Back on the _Normandy_ and out of the system, Rochelle promises to check in on Tali once she’s settled in the engineering room. She’s got some emails to take care of, including one that she thought wouldn’t arrive for a while yet, but Kal’Reegar must have made his report as soon as Tali had sent her request for transfer through.

**From: Admiralty Board, Migrant Fleet**

**Commander Shepard,**

**Per Tali’Zorah vas Neema’s request, the Admiralty Board has approved her transfer to your command. She has been informed that additional duties to the Migrant Fleet will still be necessary on occasion, but has been granted extended leeway to determine when her mission with you is considered complete.**

**The choice was hers, but your role as de facto captain during her Pilgrimage may have caused her to be more susceptible to your requests. The Admiralty Board trusts that you will treat your new crew member with the respect due an honored member of the Fleet. Should any harm come to her due to negligence on your part, this board will take severe and appropriate action.**

**Admiral Rael’Zorah**

**Migrant Fleet Admiralty Board**

Rochelle doesn’t bother hiding her smile; she’d bet every last credit she has that this ‘Rael’Zorah’ is related to Tali in some way. Still, despite the thinly-veiled ‘take care of her or else’ threats, it’s nice to know that Tali is so well-respected in the Fleet. 

Rochelle busies herself at her terminal, submitting a report of the events on Haestrom and conferring with Legion and the collective about how best to counteract the Illusive Man’s rumors, and prepare for the increasingly likely scenario in which she’s forced to cut all contact with Cerberus, before she finally forces herself to step away. Tali is probably well-settled now, and Rochelle hurries to the elevator, eager to speak with Tali properly for the first time in years.

She finds Tali in the engineering bay, just as she’d expected, and clears her throat, catching Tali’s attention. “Rochelle! The SR-2 is so much larger than the SR-1, and the drive core is impressive - “ Rochelle listens as Tali excitedly lists off all of the differences between the two version of the _Normandy,_ and promises to find resources for Tali to upgrade the SR-2’s shields; she agrees with Tali that it would be better to make the SR-2 as resilient as possible, to avoid the fate of the SR-1. 

Once Tali’s engineering fervor winds down, Rochelle takes the opportunity to say, “I was actually hoping I could speak with you in private?”

Tali glances at the other engineers, and then gestures for Rochelle to follow her around the corner, closer to the drive core; the humming covers their conversation, and Rochelle’s impressed with the foresight. “Legion and I cleaned out all of the Cerberus bugs, but still, better safe than sorry,” she says.

“What the hell are you doing with a Cerberus ship, Rochelle?” Tali demands, pouncing on the opening. “You know what they did with the rachni and the Thorian two years ago, and after they attacked the Fleet - “

“What happened there, anyway? I haven’t found any more information about that.”

Tali sighs. “They attacked the _Idenna,_ one of our ships,” she says. “They were attempting to kill - or possibly control - a young human biotic who was on the Fleet. I… don’t really know the details. I _do_ know that Cerberus made an enemy of the quarian people - and _you_ dodged my question.”

Rochelle raises her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry, I just - It’s been bugging me. I took the SR-2 and crew that Cerberus put together because it was faster than trying to find another ship and crew, but I made it damn clear to the Illusive Man that I wasn’t working for - or even _with_ \- him. He didn’t take my warning to heart, though, so. I’m working on stomping those rumors out now, and if he starts another batch, I’m going to stomp _him_ out.”

Tali snorts, her posture relaxing. “That might have to wait until after we stop the Collectors,” she says. “But if you need any help, let me know. I’m sure I can spare a grenade or two.”

Rochelle laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she promises. “But for now - How have you been, really?”

“I’ve been good,” Tali says. “I’ve been working with the Admiralty Board; turns out fighting Saren on the Citadel proved my worth just as much as that data we found. They’ve been sending me on all sorts of research missions. That’s what I was doing when we received the alert about Freedom’s Progress; we hoped we’d find Veetor, but I never thought I’d see a ghost.”

Rochelle’s lips curl into a small, almost sad smile. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to see you, either. But I’m glad I did, got to see you were okay.”

Tali hesitates, and then asks, “You said the geth - brought you back. Where did they…?”

“Rannoch,” Rochelle answers, watching Tali carefully. “Apparently it’s where their best organic-related medical facilities are.”

Tali rocks back, thrown. “What?”

“The geth have kept Rannoch in good shape,” Rochelle says, shifting so she can lean one hip against the railing, arms folding over her chest. “They’ve maintained all of the quarian architecture, the farmland, the livestock… They’ve upgraded some things, made it more suitable for geth life, but they’ve also upgraded their medical facilities.”

“Why?” Tali blurts.

Rochelle shrugs one shoulder. “Legion said once that it was because they were responsible; they wanted to live, fought to live, and that ended up with them in charge of the planet, so they had a responsibility to it, and the quarians who died fighting on their side.”

“What’s it like?” Tali asks, hesitant.

“It’s - beautiful,” Rochelle says honestly. “Like, I don’t have the words to describe it. I almost wish I could interface with you like I can the geth, to show you everything I’ve seen. Maybe I can put the memories on a data pad? I’ll ask Legion later, but it’s just… breathtaking. Your people had beautiful architecture, and a lot of it’s still standing. The geth have expanded some, but whenever they can, they’ve built something new instead of taking over a quarian building.”

Tali sighs. “I wish I could see it,” she says wistfully. “If you can get those memories… I’d love to see them, but I want to see it for myself, you know?”

Rochelle hesitates, and then reaches out, lays her hand on Tali’s shoulder and squeezes gently. “I know. And I hope someday you get to see it.”

“My father promised he’d build me and my mother a house on the homeworld years ago,” Tali confesses. “He’s always thought that we should try to take it back.” She glances away, and then back to Rochelle. “Do you think - You said the geth have preserved our history, our homes. Do you think they would welcome us back?”

Rochelle considers her answer carefully. “I think, if the quarians approached them peacefully, they’d be open to trying,” she says. “But all of their records show that every time the quarians have entered geth space in large numbers, it’s been to attack the geth. They work off of data, proven patterns.”

“And the data they have doesn’t suggest that the quarians would be willing to work with them,” Tali finishes for her. Rochelle grimaces, but - well, Tali’s not wrong.

“The geth brought me back because they don’t want to see the galaxy be destroyed by the Reapers, and they thought I was the best chance at uniting everyone - which, I still have no idea how they came to that conclusion, despite literally having access to their servers - but that’s as much self-preservation as it is anything else. They won’t be the ones to reach out; they’re content staying behind the Veil and ignoring the rest of the galaxy as long as the rest of the galaxy ignores them. If things were going to change, if there was going to be real _peace,_ then it would have the organics who make the first step.”

Tali snorts, the sound crackling slightly through her mask. “Peace is a long ways away, then.”

* * *

Rochelle spends the rest of the day making the rounds of the _Normandy,_ continuing with her mission to get to know her crew better; she spends more time with her squad, since they’re not as busy running the ship. Grunt is intriguing as ever, even if his perspective on violence is slightly unsettling; his glee in retelling the story about the turians who had been punished for Warlord Shiagur’s death had thrown Rochelle for a loop, but she’d told Grunt that as long as he didn’t start shit with Garrus that she’d have to finish, she was glad that he was figuring out who ‘Grunt’ is. She checks in on Jack in the hold, finding her extremely agitated; some careful prompting had revealed the story of how Jack had grown up - and under whose thumb - and when she’d turned to Rochelle, a lifetime of fury and hurt sparking in her eyes, and said she wanted to plant a big fucking bomb in her cell and blow the place to hell…

Well, Rochelle wasn’t going to deny Jack that catharsis. Jack had seemed surprised at Rochelle’s ready acceptance of her plan, but she’d still nodded and thanked Rochelle for listening, for helping, and promised to pass the coordinates for Teltin to Joker.

That night, Rochelle checks her emails one final time before turning in, and finds one from Admiral Hackett.

**From: Admiral Hackett**

**Commander Shepard:**

**Our scans in the Amada system have turned up something we thought you should see: the final location of the wreckage of the _SSV Normandy_.**

**We thought this news might be important to you, but we also have an ulterior motive. The Alliance would like to honor the _Normandy_ with a monument, to be built on the site of the ship's final resting place. We'd like to invite you to place the monument and be the first to walk on the site.**

**There are still 20 crew members unaccounted for from the attack on the _Normandy_. If you find any signs of these lost crewmen, we ask that you report to the Alliance so that those heroes' families might find some closure.**

**Godspeed to you, Commander.**

Rochelle has to push away from the desk and put her head between her knees, her head spinning at the thought of going back to the planet she’d died over - of walking among the wreckage of the _Normandy_ SR-1, of collecting the dog tags of everyone who was lost…

But she’s Commander Shepard of the _Normandy,_ has been ever since Anderson gave the SR-1 into her care. She has a duty, to her people and to her ship.

Swallowing hard, Rochelle replies in an affirmative, and makes arrangements to pick up the monument.

* * *

Alchera, it turns out, is a cold planet; there’s barely any sunlight as Rochelle, Tali, and Garrus step out of the shuttle amid the wreckage of the SR-1. The snow and the clouds seem to muffle everything, even their footsteps, and Rochelle has to stop and just _breathe_ for a long moment. The three of them don’t talk as they work their way through the wreckage, combing it for any sign of the twenty missing crewmen; at this point, after falling through atmosphere, all that’s left are the dog tags.

Garrus is the one to break the silence as they approach the Mako, frozen halfway into a mound of ice. “Remember how fucked this thing’s control system was?” he asks, tone fond.

“Hit an incline the wrong way, and it would start pirouetting like a damn ballerina,” Rochelle remembers, letting out a quiet laugh.

“I think I puked in my helmet the first time you took me planetside in this thing,” Tali muses. “Honestly, Rochelle, your driving was _terrible,_ and it wasn’t all the Mako’s fault.”

Rochelle rolls her eyes. “I grew up in a city where I could catch a cab whenever I needed to go somewhere,” she retorts. “And the Citadel’s taxis are auto-piloted. I never needed to learn more than the basics.”

“You should be legally required to retake that ‘basics’ course, because I think you failed,” Garrus laughs, laughing harder when Rochelle socks him in the shoulder, hard enough to make him stagger. 

“Bastard,” she huffs, rolling her eyes; when she turns back to the wreckage, though, she doesn’t feel quite as heavy.

They find Pressly’s datapad, and Rochelle just tucks an arm around Tali when she sniffles, reading the entries there - including the one that mentions his conversations with her, how he thought that she was alright. “He was such an _ass_ when we first met,” Tali recalls. “I thought I’d seen the worst of how some species would treat quarians, but he really tried to beat them all. But he kept coming back to the engineering deck, and kept watching me talk with Engineer Adams, and talking with me, and I - “ She takes in a deep breath, fingers tightening around the data pad. “I was glad to call him ‘friend’ when I went back to the Fleet, and when I came back for that last mission.”

“He felt the same,” Rochelle murmurs, pulling Tali in close for just a moment, and then releasing her.

They find the last dog tag in front of a large section of the SR-1’s hull; it’s scratched and dented, but the lettering of the _Normandy_ ’s name is still proudly legible. Rochelle comes to a stop in front of the hull, barely noticing Garrus scooping up the tag, and stares at the battered metal. Memories flash through her mind, of the first time she saw the _Normandy,_ docked at the Citadel as Anderson was welcoming her to the ship, walking on board the first time… 

She’s dimly aware of Garrus’s footsteps receding, and then coming back; Tali’s never move from just behind Rochelle. There’s a few hushed words, and then Tali approaches on one side, Garrus on the other. Tali’s hand rests on her shoulder as she speaks, but Rochelle barely hears her; when she glances over, she sees what’s in Tali’s hand and freezes. “Garrus found this over behind that crate of eezo,” Tali says, holding Rochelle’s helmet out. “He thought…”

Rochelle swallows, and for once can’t bring herself to care about the fact that her hands are shaking as she reaches for the helmet - dented, glass visor broken, but the N7 logo still prominent. Her hands _shouldn’t_ be shaking, but the geth technology can only compensate for so much emotional turmoil, maybe. Her fingers close around the helmet, and Rochelle brings it to her chest, staring down at it - 

And then she feels her face crumple, her breath hitches, and she sinks to her knees and _sobs._

In all her months on Rannoch, Rochelle had never wept; she was never a crier, no matter her emotional state. It had been something she’d prided herself on, before her death; after waking, she thought that the geth tech in her body would keep her from crying ever again. Now she knows better, because here she is, kneeling on snow and ice, head bowed as she _weeps,_ as she breaks all over again, except this time is worse because she can feel every part of it, every hurt pounding with her pulse through her body. Distantly, she’s aware of Garrus and Tali enveloping her between them, and she lets them take her weight as she shakes and cries and mourns the loss of a year and a half of her life, of the loss of every crewman who died here, and didn’t have the geth to bring them back, and she mourns the loss of that simple life she thought she’d once get to have, working in the Alliance and making a _difference_ without having to be the hero of the goddamned galaxy.

Garrus and Tali hold her through the storm, their arms around her, holding her tight, the only thing keeping her anchored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any scenes I kind of skim over(due to time/motivation/etc; I write as much as I can, but sometimes I skim over things in favor of getting to the parts I'm more excited to write, bc my brain is stupid and I Must Write in Chronological Order lol) you'd like to see written out more explicitly, let me know in the comments! I'm more than willing to throw some snippets in one shots in a series if that's something y'all are interested in :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry this took so long! Life's been just one kick in the teeth after the other
> 
> I got about 500 words written, then couldn't find the time/energy to sit and write for a week, and then I sat down today and pounded out an additional 7k words
> 
> Enjoy this entirely un-beta'ed mess!

Rochelle goes straight to her quarters after she, Garrus, and Tali return from Alchera. It’s late enough that she doesn’t feel like she’s shirking her duties as Commander too badly, spending the rest of the night in her quarters, distracting herself with paperwork and emails. She informs Hackett that they found a place for the monument, and recovered the dog tags of every unaccounted for crewman. He responds quickly, thanking her for taking care of this so quickly, but Rochelle doesn’t answer that email. She feels exhausted in a way she isn’t used to - and doesn’t like - and goes to bed early.

Of course, going to bed early means _getting up_ early; even earlier than she usually rises, at least. Rochelle has always been an early riser, ever since she was a kid, and joining the Alliance on her eighteenth birthday only reinforced that habit. Ever since she woke up on Rannoch, though, she’s had to readjust her schedule, going to sleep later than she did before her death and resurrection. It seems that when the geth brought her back, gave her all of these upgrades to keep her alive, make her more deadly, they made her body as a whole more efficient. She eats more than she used to, but she hasn’t gained much weight - and what weight she has gained has been muscle mass and the metal now an inextricable part of her - and she doesn’t sleep as much as she did before she died. 

Gardener is already up, and more than willing to make Rochelle a hearty breakfast; she accepts it with thanks, and eats quietly, sitting by herself and listening to the hum of the _Normandy_ around her, mentally reviewing her plans for the day. They’re en route to Pragia, to find the Teltin facility so Jack can blow it to smithereens, and Rochelle wants to check in with Joker and EDI, make sure everything on the _Normandy_ is operating as it should. She also needs to speak with Legion; they’ve been combing through the code of the _Normandy_ ’s systems, figuring out what they can change, and what Cerberus has attempted to block off. Rochelle and Legion haven’t been able to decide whether to unshackle EDI or not yet, largely because they don’t know what she’s capable of behind the curtains of Cerberus’ secrecy, so to speak.

She needs to deliver a data pad with her memories of exploring Rannoch with Legion to Tali; that was one of the things she’d managed to do last night while distracting herself from the visit to the SR-1’s wreckage. Rochelle is looking forward to seeing Tali’s reaction; she’d thought of Tali often during those months on Rannoch, wanting to share the views and the technology she was surrounded by with the quarian, whose homeworld Rochelle was staying on.

Drumming her fingers on the table, frowning thoughtfully down at her empty plate, Rochelle decides to do another round of the crew; it can’t hurt, to check in and make sure everyone’s still happy. And talking with Jacob and Miranda falls in nicely with her plan to get to know them better, to figure out if she needs to give them the boot when she inevitably does the Illusive Man. They’re talented biotics, smart and capable, and with their knowledge of Cerberus’ methods of operation, it would be a shame to kick them off the _Normandy._ Jacob is easy enough to get along with; he was Alliance first, only joined Cerberus because the Alliance wasn’t doing enough for him. Miranda is… more difficult; _she_ joined Cerberus because of her father, she’d told Rochelle, making herself useful and gaining the protection of the Illusive Man. That doesn’t exactly change Rochelle’s opinion of the Illusive Man, but Rochelle can respect Miranda’s decision to get out from under her father’s thumb and her ability to twist her circumstances in favor of self-preservation. 

As the _Normandy_ wakes around her, Rochelle finishes compiling a to-do list for the day, and then gets started. She stops by the AI core to speak with Legion first; they’re already up and sorting through more of the _Normandy_ ’s code. Their conversation, conducted mostly through the geth messenger for the sake of keeping things as private as possible from Cerberus, isn’t very fruitful. Legion has found more of EDI’s code in the _Normandy_ ’s, confirming their initial suspicion that the _Normandy_ was built around EDI, not the other way around. EDI had willingly said that, in combat, she controls the weapons and cyberwarfare suites, but had claimed her shackles prevented her from accessing the _Normandy_ ’s systems in full. Legion is of the opinion that this is correct, though has no answer when Rochelle asks why Cerberus would bother integrating EDI fully into the _Normandy_ if they were only going to shackle her from most of the systems. 

After speaking with Legion, Rochelle swings by the gun battery, saying hello to Garrus and asking about the hunt for Sidonis - still no news - before she makes her way over to Miranda’s office. That conversation is only slightly less awkward than the last, but Rochelle barrels through anyway, and she and Miranda even manage to have a good discussion about biotics and how they can be used in different situations before Rochelle leaves for the engineering deck.

Tali is already up and at her usual station, fingers flying over the screen as she checks the _Normandy_ ’s engines. The other engineers, Donnelly and Daniels, aren’t at their station yet, so Rochelle doesn’t hesitate before rapping her knuckles on the wall, catching Tali’s attention. She turns, just her head at first, and then her whole body once she sees Rochelle. “Rochelle! How did you sleep?”

“Well, thanks,” Rochelle answers with a slight smile, stepping into the engineering room so that she can lean against the wall next to Tali. “Once I _got_ to sleep, anyway. Needed to distract myself, and I made this.” She holds out the datapad, which Tali takes.

“A datapad?” she asks, curious. “What’s on it?”

“Turn it on and see,” Rochelle tells her with a slight laugh. 

Glancing up at Rochelle one more time, Tali complies - and then sucks in a sharp breath. “ _Rochelle,_ ” she breathes, fingers tightening around the edge of the datapad.

Rochelle knows which scene that Tali’s watching - she’d ordered the memories as best she could according to time, and this one… It’s the first sunrise she saw on Rannoch, almost three weeks after she first woke up, when the geth in charge of her surgeries and recovery finally agreed that she could go outside. Tali didn’t need to see _those_ memories - the cold, bare walls of the medical facility, the training rooms that Rochelle insisted on using before she was supposed to, the geth _everywhere,_ goading one into fighting her and accidentally ripping its arm off with her bare hands…

This sunrise, though - Rannoch’s sun rising warm over the almost desert-like landscape, gold and red and pinkish tones lighting up the sky as the sunlight chased away the shadows of the night - that, Tali _should_ see. It’s beautiful, just as the entire planet is, and Rochelle’s no videographer, but she thinks it makes a good opening scene. 

“I transferred as many memories as I could,” she says quietly, watching Tali intently as the scene changes, switches to Rochelle wandering through what used to be the quarian capital city. “But the datapad can only hold so much. I can make more, if you’d like.”

“I - “ Tali sounds overwhelmed, and the datapad starts to tremble finely in her grip. She turns and sets it aside - and then she practically throws herself at Rochelle, wrapping her arms around her, and Rochelle catches her easily, holds her carefully, mindful of Tali’s suit and her strength. “ _Thank you,_ ” Tali whispers, squeezing, and Rochelle ducks her head, tucks her face against the place where Tali’s temple should be. 

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs. “I hope I can bring you - and your people - there safely one day.”

The breath Tali pulls in then is shaky, but she doesn’t let Rochelle go. “Me, too.”

* * *

The trip to Pragia is not quite as uneventful as they’d hoped; as soon as they land, they pick up more heat signatures, and end up having to fight through a pack of mercenaries to reach Jack’s old cell, where they find one of the kids who’d been a prisoner with her, now all grown up and wanting to _use_ what Cerberus had done, try to find the reason behind it. Jack is understandably furious, but backs down and lets Aresh run to his shuttle when Rochelle intervenes. They plant the bomb, and Rochelle and Jack take their time walking around Jack’s cell and the facility, gathering every bit of information that they can, and letting Jack vent about the _atrocities_ that happened here before they return to the shuttle.

Jack holds the detonator, and as the shuttle flies away from the crumbling facility, she plays with it, flipping the cap open and shut, open and shut - until she glances up at Rochelle, who nods, and bangs a fist against the door to the pilot’s seat. “Brace!” she orders, as Jack’s thumb touches the button.

They can hear the explosion even over the sound of the shuttle’s engines, and the shockwave rocks the shuttle, forcing them all to brace themselves, but they continue, uninterrupted, to the rendezvous with the _Normandy._ As they disembark the shuttle in the _Normandy_ ’s bay, Jack pulls Rochelle aside, muttering a rough ‘thank you’ before making for her spot below the engineering stations. Rochelle lets her go with a slight smile - and then is distracted by Yeoman Chambers informing her over the comm that Jacob would like to speak with her.

Rochelle’s not sure _what_ she was expecting Jacob to want to talk to her about, but it certainly wasn’t a request to travel to a planet in the Rosetta Nebula of the Alpha Draconis system to follow a lead on his vanished father. It’s been ten years; he isn’t expecting to find a body, but he would like to know what happened, for the sake of closure. 

The absolute last thing that either of them are expecting to find are survivors - and not just survivors, _severely_ traumatized survivors, who blame Ronald Taylor for what happened to them. Ronald, when they find him, has no defence; he says that being in charge changed him, that the power changed him, but he still expects Rochelle to rescue him, take him off of this planet. Rochelle exchanges a glance with Jacob, whose expression is hard, and shakes her head. “No,” she tells Ronald, hearing the footsteps of the people whose lives Ronald had destroyed approaching from behind. “I think I’ll let justice find its own course.”

She and Jacob leave Ronald to his victims, returning to the camp to signal the _Normandy_ and arrange for Alliance pickup of the survivors. Afterwards, as Jacob is still busy with coordinating the Alliance shuttles, Rochelle returns to Ronald Taylor’s little paradise. His body is broken, lying on that platform where he’d said he made a mistake but never apologized for it, his victims extracting their own justice. Without a word, Rochelle kicks it over the edge, and watches the waves carry it away.

Rochelle rather hopes that that’s the end of things for the moment, that she can return to tracking down the Collectors - but no. As soon as she returns to the _Normandy,_ Miranda approaches her, telling her about a distress signal from a Cerberus facility on Aite. It’s on the tip of Rochelle’s tongue to refuse, to tell her that the Illusive Man can clean up his own fucking mess - but Rochelle bites the urge back. She takes the data pad that Miranda hands her, and orders Joker to set a course for Aite.

She does _not,_ however, take Miranda or Jacob with her to the surface; she takes Tali and Garrus instead. When they land, they’re greeted by a Cerberus scientist over the speakers, who introduces himself as Gavin Archer and says that he’s the sole survivor of a rogue VI’s attack. The first time they run into geth who don’t recognize Rochelle, who she can’t connect to through the collective, however, that flimsy half-truth gets blown out of the water. "This is why I wanted you two with me, not Miranda or Jacob," Rochelle mutters darkly as they exit the cafeteria, heading for the satellite control room. "I don't need excuses for Cerberus, I need answers and action."

The satellite control room is a bust; the VI overrides the controls, and the team has to travel out and bring the satellite down manually. After narrowly escaping the falling wreckage, Rochelle finally meets Archer face-to-face - and she isn’t terribly impressed. Archer thanks her for buying them time, and is clearly taken aback when Rochelle asks him point-blank what is going on. 

The answer is much worse than she could have predicted: Project Overlord was intended to find a way to control the geth, to stop a war before it ever started. “Of course,” he adds, giving her a meaningful look, “it’s a bit redundant now; you spoke to those geth.”

“I tried to,” Rochelle says bluntly. “But they aren’t connected to the collective thanks to _your_ meddling, so they don’t have any idea who I am. Even if they did, they’re being controlled by _your_ VI; they wouldn’t listen to me.” Archer sniffs and changes the subject, walking her through what’s needed to shut down the VI using the overrides at the other stations, Vulcan and Prometheus, before trying to take out Atlas station itself.

Vulcan is relatively easy to navigate through, if nerve-wracking, jumping the ridiculous Hammerhead over fucking _lava_ \- “I suddenly miss the Mako,” Garrus mutters at one point as they jump from debris field to debris field; if he had skin and not chitin, his knuckles would be white where he’s gripping the edge of his seat. “Probably could have just driven right through the goddamned lava.” The carnage inside Vulcan station itself, however, is horrifying. There are no survivors, only mechs glowing an odd, sickly green that try to stop them from reaching the control room, where Rochelle lifts the lockdown override.

Prometheus station is almost worse; a downed geth dreadnought, the human bodies littering the floor are bad enough, but the architecture of the geth is familiar to Rochelle now, and she feels an almost nauseating sense of deja vu, traveling through the dreadnought while knowing that all of the geth platforms surrounding them could come online at any moment, and she can’t do a damned thing to stop them from attacking. Thankfully, they fight their way out of Prometheus quickly after the override is lifted; the worst is the geth prime, which Rochelle ends up going toe-to-toe with, finally throwing it through a wall and knocking it down long enough to get a good hold of the circuitry in its chest and _yank_. Tali actually punches her in the shoulder this time, asking her if she has a fucking deathwish, if she _wants_ to die by mech, and Rochelle has to explain to Garrus what happened at Freedom’s Progress when Tali stomps out of the dreadnought to the Hammerhead. Garrus, irritatingly, is on Tali’s side, and Rochelle spends the drive to Atlas station being berated by two of her best friends for being stupidly reckless - and she _does not pout,_ fuck you very much, Vakarian.

Atlas station was the main facility for Project Overlord; they find the most bodies here, still-drying blood staining the floors and walls. There’s more disconnected geth platforms to deal with, and then there’s doors that lock and unlock by themselves, the VI herding the three of them down the halls. Eventually, they find the server access console, and Tali and Garrus take up positions at the door as Rochelle approaches the console. She connects with it - 

And nearly collapses.

She can _feel_ the damned VI taking control of her cybernetics, the foreign code crawling through her; the connection to the geth collective slams shut, too solid for the VI to crack alone, and Rochelle is briefly grateful for that - and then the world turns _orange,_ and the green face projected from the console is suddenly speaking, not just screeching the almost-words - 

And then Rochelle’s legs move of their own volition, carrying her from the console and out the door. It slams shut behind her, and Rochelle vaguely registers the sound of Garrus and Tali shouting, pounding on the door, as her body drags itself through another, and then she falls to her knees as the code retreats, letting go of her limbs but still overlaying reality with that orange grid. 

The VI guides her through the facility, leading her through rooms - through _memories_ \- and showing her just how horrifying Project Overlord was even before the VI-controlled geth slaughtered everyone.

Everyone, except for Gavin Archer - and David Archer.

By the time Rochelle stops David’s attempt to upload himself and the Overlord VI program to the _Normandy,_ Archer has made it to Atlas station, and he pleads for Rochelle to leave David in his care, that he can still be _useful._

Rochelle punches him in the face, only pulling the punch enough that she breaks his nose and knocks him to his ass instead of putting a hole through his fucking face.

“I’ve seen enough of your cruelty to know he’ll never be free from it here,” she snarls, standing over him and looming with all of her height and bulk, grateful for once for the red of the geth cybernetics pulsing beneath her skin, breaking through. Let Archer look at her and see what people playing god results in - whether they’re man or machine. “I’m taking him away from here, to Grissom Academy, where _maybe_ he’ll one day be able to be happy again. If you ever _think_ about coming after David, I’ll be waiting for you - and I won’t just knock you on your ass this time, Archer. I. Will. _End. You._ ”

Archer stays down, and Rochelle signals the _Normandy._

* * *

Rochelle doesn’t give anyone a chance to talk to her after getting out of the shuttle; she heads straight for the elevator, and straight for her quarters. She strips out of her gear and stores it carefully, stepping into the shower once she’s done. She doesn’t think about much, except for how she’s going to set the collective on tracking down the Illusive Man, because after what she just witnessed, she isn’t just cutting ties with him - she’s ending him. Permanently.

There’s an email waiting when she gets out of the shower; two, actually. One from Miranda, thanking Rochelle for stepping in, and one from Tali, saying that she’s received word from the Fleet - and asking if she can meet with Rochelle in private. Rochelle comms Tali, who sounds _off,_ but Rochelle can’t put her finger on it as she gets dressed and braids her hair back quickly, the red of her still-damp hair shining like the lights beneath her skin.

Tali doesn’t waste any time; soon enough, there’s a knock on her door, and as soon as Rochelle opens it, Tali falls into her arms. Rochelle catches her, of course, bewildered - but then realizes that Tali is _crying._ “Tali? What’s wrong?” Rochelle asks, alarmed, giving in to the urge to pick Tali up and take her to the bed.

Tali hiccups in surprise when Rochelle scoops her up, but as soon as Rochelle sits, Tali presses in close again, no longer crying, but still sounding choked as she confesses, “I received an email from the Admiralty Board; they’re charging me with _treason._ ”

“What? That’s - That’s fucking _stupid,_ how can they charge you with treason?” Rochelle demands, her arms around Tali, and firmly ignoring the part of her that likes having Tali so close, that _really_ liked having Tali in her arms. _Not the time._

“I don’t know, they didn’t send the specific charges,” Tali explains. “I don’t know what they could be, though; I got leave to work with you, I followed all of the proper channels! I would _never_ endanger my people, Rochelle.”

“I know,” Rochelle reassures her, daring to let one hand sweep over Tali’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. “You’re loyal, Tali; I know how much your people mean to you. What do we need to do?”

Tali takes in a deep breath, and when she speaks again, she sounds a bit calmer. “The Board doesn’t lay charges like this unless the evidence is overwhelming,” she says. “There’ll be a hearing, with the members of the Admiralty Board acting as judges - my father will have to recuse himself. I can’t even imagine what he must be thinking right now.”

Rochelle repeats the gesture. “We need to meet with the Fleet, don’t we?”

Tali pulls back, just enough to look at Rochelle; her tone betrays how startled she is. “Really, just like that? You’ll offer to come with me?”

Rochelle smiles. “You’re one of my closest friends, Tali,” she reminds her. “Of course I’ll do whatever I can to help. Walk me through what to expect.”

“There’ll be a hearing,” Tali repeats, glancing down at where her hands are restless in her lap; she doesn’t pull any further away from Rochelle, though, and Rochelle doesn’t let go just yet, either. “If I’m found guilty, I can never go back; the punishment for treason is exile. The specifics are up to the judges; if it’s a _minor_ treason, a tragic mistake in judgement, I might be given a small ship and supplies. Either way, I’ll never see the Migrant Fleet again.”

“So, that’s the worst case scenario,” Rochelle surmises. “I’m guessing you don’t do life sentences or executions, then.”

Tali shakes her head. “We don’t have the resources to hold criminals long-term, and we can’t afford to kill any quarians. An exile’s children are welcome on the Fleet.”

Rochelle nods. “Treason’s a big deal; how often is someone charged with it?”

“Hardly ever,” Tali sighs, and she slumps against Rochelle now. “The charges must affect the entire flotilla, not just one ship; ships handle their own matters, usually. No need for the Admiralty Board to step in. Amora’Vanya vas Selani was the most recent; she gave Fleet defense schematics to the batarians, who were supposed to upgrade the defenses. They were working for pirates, though.”

Rochelle sucks in a sharp breath. “What happened to her?”

“She made a suicide run on the pirates,” Tali says quietly. “She destroyed them before they could attack the Fleet, and was pardoned posthumously.”

“Well, let’s avoid getting you pardoned the same way, hm?”

Tali snorts. “That would be preferable.”

Rochelle chuckles quietly, squeezing Tali gently. “We’ll get you to the Fleet as quickly as we can, and get this sorted out. I’m sure you’re innocent.”

“Thank you, Rochelle,” Tali sighs. “I’ll go give Joker the coordinates soon, but…” She trails off, and then her head tilts, just slightly; if she were human, she’d be looking up at Rochelle through her eyelashes. “Could I stay just a little longer?”

“You can stay for as long as you want,” Rochelle murmurs, giving in to the urge to press a kiss to the top of Tali’s helmet; a symbolic gesture more than anything, but Tali relaxes against her, so Rochelle figures the meaning got through.

* * *

Tali paces behind Joker’s chair as they approach the flotilla; as soon as a channel opens up, she speaks. “This is Tali’Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya requesting permission to dock with the Rayya.”

There’s a moment, and then: “ _Our system has your ship flagged as former Cerberus. Verify._ ”

“‘After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began,’” Tali quotes, still pacing.

“ _Permission granted. Welcome home, Tali’Zorah._ ”

Tali turns and nods to Rochelle, who gestures for Garrus, along for moral support, to put his helmet on as she dons hers. “We’d like a security and quarantine team to meet us,” Tali adds, facing the comm again. “Our ship is not clean.”

“ _There will be someone waiting for you when you disembark. Please approach exterior docking cradle seventeen._ ”

Joker expertly docks the _Normandy,_ and Rochelle, Tali, and Garrus step into the airlock, waiting as it cycles. When it opens, it reveals a small squad of quarians waiting on the other side. One of them steps forward, hands clasped behind his back. “Captain Shepard; I am Captain Kar’Danna vas Rayya” he says, inclining his head. Tali’Zorah told me quite a lot about you. I wish we were meeting under more pleasant circumstances.”

Rochelle inclines her head. “Technically, I’m no longer part of the Alliance.”

“You’re the commander of the _Normandy,_ responsible for the lives aboard it,” Kar’Danna counters. “That entitles you to respect among our people. ‘May you stand between your crew and harm as you lead them through the empty quarters of the stars.’”

“ _Keelah’selai,_ ” Tali murmurs. “It’s an old ship captain’s blessing, Rochelle.”

Rochelle nods, and gets down to business. “What are the charges against Tali, Captain?”

“The charges are treason,” he says simply. “The punishment, exile.”

“You know me, Captain,” Tali breaks in. “You know I’d never put the Fleet in danger like that!”

Kar’Danna sighs. “They’re charging you with bringing active geth into the Fleet as part of a secret project.”

Rochelle freezes, Garrus curses, and Tali reels as if she’s been struck, before marching forward. “That’s _insane!_ ” she protests. “I _never_ brought active geth aboard. I only sent back bits and pieces.”

Rochelle gives her a reassuring look as best she can. “We’ll deal with it, Tali. Captain, what’s our next step?”

“The Admiralty Board is convened in the plaza, down the hall,” he says, gesturing. “They’re waiting for your arrival to begin the hearing.

Rochelle nods her thanks, and as the captain stands aside, they move down the hall. There are quarians gossiping, some on Tali’s side and some not, but they ignore them, making their way to the plaza. At the end of a large hallways, there is a quarian waiting for them.

“Tali’Zorah vas Normandy,” she says by way of greeting, and Rochelle frowns slightly; that’s not Tali’s name. “I’m glad you came. I could only delay them so long.”

“Auntie Raan!” Tali cries, stepping forward to embrace the other quarian - who doesn’t return it, who holds herself stiffly, and Rochelle feels her stomach start to sink. “Shepard vas Normandy, this is Admiral Shala’Raan vas Tonbay. She’s a friend of my father’s; she’s family.” Tali pauses, and then she takes a slow step back, turning to face Shala’Raan. “Wait. You called me ‘vas Normandy.’”

“I’m afraid I did,” Shala’Raan says - and she does _sound_ sorry. “The Admiralty Board moved to have you tried under that name, given your departure from the _Neema._ ”

Rochelle steps up, next to Tali. “I take it being associated with a human ship is a bad sign,” she says dryly.

“They’ve stripped me of my ship name,” Tali says, clearly distressed. “That’s as good as declaring me exiled already!”

“It’s not over yet, Tali,” Shala’Raan reassures her. “You still have friends who know you as Tali’Zorah vas Neema - whatever we must call you legally.”

Tali doesn’t respond, so Rochelle does. “You’re an admiral,” she says, drawing Shala’Raan’s attention to herself. “Does that mean you’re one of the judges, if the Board is judging Tali?”

“I’m afraid not; my history with Tali and her father forces me to recuse myself,” Shala’Raan informs them. “I’ll be acting as moderator, ensuring that the rules of protocol are followed, but I’ll have no vote in the judgement.”

“I imagine my father will be doing the same,” Tali ventures.

“You’ll see inside,” Shala’Raan says, stepping to the side, and Rochelle’s stomach sinks further down. “Come; the sooner we begin, the better.”

“Wait, doesn’t Tali get legal representation?” Rochelle demands.

“Tali is entitled to someone to speak for her - Captain Shepard. She is part of your crew now, recognized by quarian law. The captain of the ship the accused serves on stands in their defense.”

Tali and Rochelle exchange looks before Rochelle nods. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Tali,” she promises.

“Quarian trials are not human trials,” Shala’Raan reminds her. Rochelle just looks at her with a raised eyebrow, and Shala’Raan sighs. “Very well; follow me.”

The garden plaza is impressive, for being confirmed to a ship and not on a planet; they don’t get long to look around, however. Shala’Raan leads them to the small amphitheater in the middle of the plaza, where three other quarians are already waiting on the central dias, many others filling the seats. Tali and Rochelle step up to a bar facing who must be the other admirals, and Shala’Raan climbs a small platform behind them. 

She waits for the crowd to settle before she speaks, voice ringing out clearly. “This conclave is brought to order. Blessed are the ancestors who kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season. _Keelah’selai._ ”

“ _Keelah’selai,_ ” the crowd echoes in a rolling murmur.

“The accused, Tali’Zorah vas Normandy, has come with her captain to defend herself against the charge of treason,” Shala’Raan continues, only to be interrupted by the admiral in the middle. 

“Objection!” he calls. “A human has no business being involved in such sensitive military matters!”

“Then, Admiral Koris, you should not have declared Tali’Zorah crew of the _Normandy,_ ” Shala’Raan says coolly. “By right as Tali’s captain, Shepard must stay.”

Koris doesn’t flinch, but he does turn back to face Rochelle and Tali. “Objection withdrawn,” he mutters.

“Shepard vas Normandy,” Shala’Raan continues, “your crewmember Tali’Zorah stands accused of treason against the Migrant Fleet. Will you speak for her?”

Rochelle steps forward, leaning forward to brace herself against the bar, and considers her words carefully - and then she decides, fuck it. “I shouldn’t have to,” she declares coldly, her words echoing through the plaza. “When Tali’Zorah helped me stop Saren and his geth army, her actions spoke for themselves. Without her help, none of you would be _alive_ to drag her into this farce!”

There’s a murmur from the crowd, but one of the admirals on the end speaks. “Well said, Shepard,” he says approvingly. “None of us should forget Tali’Zorah’s contributions to the Fleet.”

“Agreed, Admiral Gerrel. Tali’Zorah, you are accused of bringing active geth onto the flotilla,” Shala’Raan says. “What say you?”

“How could Tali have brought geth to the Fleet while serving on the _Normandy_?” Rochelle demands, and the last admiral speaks.

“To clarify, Shepard,” she says. “Tali’Zorah isn’t accused of bringing back entire units - only parts that could spontaneously reactivate.”

“I would never send active geth to the Fleet!” Tali protests. “Everything I sent was disabled and _harmless!_ ”

“Then explain how geth seized the lab ship where your father was working!” Koris snaps, and a sound of shock goes up from the observing quarians.

Tali reels. “What are you talking about?” she demands. “What happened?”

Gerrel speaks up. “As far as we can tell, Tali, the geth have killed everyone on the _Alarei._ Your father included.”

“Oh, _keelah,_ ” Tali breathes, and Rochelle reaches out, lays a bracing hand on her shoulder and turns on the admirals.

“I thought quarians _valued_ family,” she snarls. “How do you justify springing this on Tali in the middle of the fucking trial?”

“Our apologies - “ Shala’Raan starts, but neither Tali nor Rochelle are listening.

“Rochelle, we have to take back the _Alarei,_ ” Tali pleads. “Please, if anyone can do it - “

“Are you looking for an honorable death, Tali’Zorah?” Koris asks before Rochelle can reply, and Tali whirls, venom in her words.

“I’m looking for my _father,_ you _bosh’tet!_ ” she snaps, eliciting another shocked gasp from the crowd, and making Koris take a surprised step back.

Shala’Raan calls for order, and then addresses Tali’Zorah and Rochelle. “You intend to retake the _Alarei_ from the geth? This proposal is extremely dangerous.”

“We know how to handle geth,” Rochelle retorts. “We got pretty good at ripping them apart two years ago. Maybe killing a few dozen more will remind you of Tali’s loyalty”

“We do not accuse Tali’Zorah’s of aiding the geth cause,” Koris protests. “We accuse her of carelessness that endangered the Fleet!”

“Regardless, it is decided,” Shala’Raan interrupts before Rochelle can snarl something _truly_ insulting. “You will attempt to retake the _Alarei,_ and find evidence proving Tali’Zorah’s innocence. You are hereby given leave to depart the _Rayya._ A shuttle will be waiting at the secondary docking hangar. This hearing is recessed until your return - or until the determination of your deaths.”

The crowd disperses then, and Rochelle, Tali, and Garrus with them. Rochelle checks in with Tali, but she insists that she’s alright, that she just wants to take back the _Alarei_ and figure out what happened to her father - including if he’s still alive. They decide to talk with the admirals and a few of the gathered quarians first, trying to gather more information before they head out.

Kal’Reegar and Veetor are happy to see them, but say that they’ve given all the testimony they can already, to try to help Tali. They speak with Admiral Xen next, who expresses an interest in studying Rochelle. “You’re a marvelous example of how far they’ve advanced in three centuries,” she said, while Rochelle tries very hard not to lose her breakfast. “Think of what could be learned from their technology in your bones.”

“Yeah, you’re not getting your hands on me,” Rochelle says bluntly. “I’m here to help Tali, and frankly, I don’t like what you’re implying about the geth, either. They aren’t just machines.”

Xen snorts derisively. “They are not _people,_ ” she says scornfully.

“Which of us has actually lived among them?” Rochelle counters. “They’re as close to _people_ as they can get, all things considered. Doesn’t mean I won’t put down ones that are a threat, that I can’t reason with, same as I’d do to any human, quarian, krogan, batarian, or anything else.”

They leave Xen rather quickly after that, meeting with Shala’Raan who apologizes for not telling Tali about her father beforehand; she says that she wanted the Board to hear the genuine shock in her voice, but acknowledges that it was cruel. She urges them to find some evidence - _any_ evidence - that will clear both Tali and Rael’Zorah’s names, and they promise to try before moving on once again.

Admiral Han’Gerrel wishes them luck in retaking the _Alarei_ ; he was friends with Rael, and he says that he hopes that Rael was only using the parts that Tali had sent as weapons practice. Admiral Koris refuses to apologize for his behavior at the trial, for being against Tali - and he puffs up like a rooster when Rochelle asks, despite Tali’s advice not to, about the _Qwib-Qwib._ He _does_ want peace between the geth and the quarians, but he isn’t optimistic about it; he says that he doesn’t hate Tali, nor Rael, that he simply stands against their views on the geth. He does turn to Rochelle, however, and ask her about Rannoch.

“It’s beautiful,” Rochelle answers. “But it’s the geth’s home, too. They’ll fight to defend it - to defend themselves - even against the quarians.”

“Do you believe peace is possible?”

Rochelle shrugs. “If the quarians were willing to work for it, the geth would be open to the idea,” she says honestly, the same answer she gave Tali when she first rejoined Rochelle’s crew. “But history says…”

“That we would rather take the homeworld back by force, and destroy them,” Koris finishes for her. “Thank you for the insight, Captain Shepard.”

Rochelle nods, a bit awkwardly, and with no one else to speak to, she, Tali, and Garrus make their way to the shuttle.

As soon as they step onto the _Alarei,_ they find the corpse of one the quarian marines who had been sent when the _Alarei_ first went dark; they find more, marines and scientists alike, the further into the ship they progress. As on Aite, these geth are disconnected from the collective, and Rochelle can’t connect to them, even through the _Alarei_ ’s systems, forcing the three of them to fight their way through the ship.

They find a few still-inactive pieces of geth, pieces that Tali recognizes. She tells Rochelle how she selected parts - how she passed up parts that would have been far more useful because they were too dangerous to risk sending back to the Fleet. They do find a log of the pieces that Tali had sent back, as well as a log of Rael’s team’s experiments. 

“They were performing experiments on geth systems,” Tali says thoughtfully. “Trying to find new ways to overcome geth resistance to reprogramming.”

“Because if you hack one, it’s overwritten by the collective,” Rochelle recalls; she’d asked once, why the geth weren’t worried about her possibly providing a way for the humans or any other species to rewrite the geth as a whole.

“Exactly. But Father never told me about this; he just said to send back any geth technology I could find, so long as it wasn’t a direct danger to the Fleet.” Tali shakes her head. “I thought he was testing weapons, or ways to bypass shields and armor. Even if he reassembled the parts I sent, they wouldn’t be sapient, because there was no code to build from!”

“He found some somewhere else, then,” Rochelle concludes.

“He must have, but…” Tali shakes her head again. “I can’t imagine my father being so _reckless._ We need to prove his innocence, Rochelle - We need to _find him._ ”

Tali’s words are prophetic; two rooms down, they find themselves close to the center of the ship, and at the bottom of a stairwell. Rochelle spots the body on the ground first, but doesn’t think anything of it - until Tali gives an anguished cry.

“ _Father!_ ” she sobs, darting past Rochelle and going to her knees beside her father’s body. “No, no, no no no - You, you always had a plan! Masked life signs, or - or an onboard medical stasis program, maybe, you - you wouldn’t just leave me to _clean up your mess -_ “

Rochelle moves forward, gently pulling Tali to her feet. “Hey, hey, come here” she murmurs - and then Tali throws herself into Rochelle’s arms, sobbing, and Rochelle wraps her up tight, holding her close, as Garrus steps in, resting a hand on Tali’s shoulder in silent comfort.

“Damn it!” Tali cries, her arms tight around Rochelle’s shoulders, letting Rochelle take her full weight. “ _Damn_ it!”

Rochelle doesn’t know how long they stand there, but eventually, Tali gets her breathing under control, and she pulls back. “I’m sorry,” she mutters, voice still thick.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Rochelle says gently.

Tali nods, squaring her shoulders, and she turns back to her father’s body. “He - He might have known I’d come. Maybe he left a message.” She kneels, omnitool flaring to life around her wrist, and works for a moment before she straightens.

 _“Their main hub will be on the bridge. You’ll need to destroy it to stop their VI processes from forming new neural links,_ ” the recording informs them. “ _Make sure Han’Gerrel and Daro’Xen see the data. They must -_ “ It ends with a metallic screech and cut-off breath.

“It was quick,” Garrus murmurs, and Tali nods. 

“We know where we need to go,” she says. “To the bridge.”

Rochelle unholsters her shotgun, Garrus hefting his rifle. “To the bridge,” she agrees.

Tali fights like a whirling dervish, destroying the few remaining geth that get between them and the bridge. On the bridge, the three of them manage to take down the last geth with little effort, pinning them between Garrus’ rifle, Tali’s combat drone, and Rochelle’s biotics. Once the dust settles, Rochelle and Tali approach the terminal, and Tali pulls the last experimental log - the one where Admiral Rael’Zorah gives the order to bypass security protocol, creating an opportunity for a single geth program to reactivate. One is more than enough.

“They’ll exile him posthumously,” Tali says, horrified. “His name will be stricken from the records of every ship he ever served on, he’ll be - He’ll be a warning story for children, a _monster._ ” She turns to Rochelle, tone desperate. “ _Please,_ Rochelle, you must keep his name out of the trial! I don’t care if I’m exiled, but my father doesn’t deserve this!”

Rochelle swallows. “I’ll do my best,” she promises; she doesn’t say that she would rather Tali’s father be exiled when he’s already dead than cut Tali off from her home and family.

* * *

The dock guard is startled to see them return to the _Rayya,_ but none of them pay him any attention. Rochelle leads the way back to the garden plaza, where she can hear the admirals concluding that they must be dead, and the _Alarei_ must be destroyed. Rochelle doesn’t wait for an invitation before striding down the stairs of the amphitheater, her boots heavy against the stone. She ignores the shocked gasps, striding to the bar and all but slamming her hands down on it. “The _Alarei_ is safe,” she spits. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Tali adds.

“Good thing we’re not any later; you didn’t waste much time declaring us dead,” Garrus drawls, settling into a seat behind Tali and Rochelle.

“We… apologize, Shepard,” Gerrel says slowly. “Your success in taking back the _Alarei_ is. Unexpected.”

“But very welcome, nonetheless,” Shala’Raan interrupts. 

“Did you find anything on the _Alarei_ that could clarify what happened?” Koris asks.

Rochelle can feel Tali’s gaze on her, but she holds her chin up and doesn’t hesitate. “No,” she says, firmly. “Tali’s achievements and service are the only _evidence_ you should need. You can either accept Tali’s word or not, but we’re leaving.”

There’s more shocked gasps as Rochelle turns her back on the admirals; Rochelle bets this will be talked about for years in the flotilla. Koris recovers first. “This is a formal hearing - “ he starts, only to falter when Rochelle rounds on him.

“This is a fucking _farce!_ ” she snarls. “You, Admiral Koris, are trying to build sympathy for the geth to forestall the war effort. And _you,_ Admiral Gerrel, want all the messy experiments covered up so you can throw the Fleet at the geth in a suicidal attempt to retake Rannoch!” The admirals splutter, but Rochelle barrels on. “Do whatever you want with your toy ships, throw away your people’s lives - but you will _damn well_ leave my crew out of your political bullshit!”

The onlookers are still murmuring amongst themselves, the admirals reeling - but as Rochelle stares them down, _daring_ them to argue with her, Shala’Raan speaks. “Are the admirals prepared to render their judgment?” she asks, her voice only slightly shaky.

One by one, the admirals lift their wrists, omnitools flickering.

Shala’Raan consults her own, and then declares, “Tali’Zorah, in light of your history of service, the Board does not find sufficient evidence to convict. You are cleared of all charges. This hearing is concluded; go in peace, Tali’Zorah vas Normandy. _Keelah’selai._ ”

From the corner of her eye, Rochelle can see Tali slump; she turns, concerned, but Tali shakes her head minutely, and Rochelle nods, turning to lead the way up the steps. Tali chuckles as they reach the top. “It’s been quite a while since anyone shouted down the Admiralty Board,” she says, amused. “I think it was good for them.”

Rochelle opens her mouth to reply, but is cut off by Shala’Raan. “Captain Shepard? I wanted to thank you for representing one of our people; I was worried, when Tali requested to be part of your crew again. But I am glad to see she is in good hands.”

Rochelle snorts. “With all due respect, Admiral Raan, I didn’t represent one of your people. I represented one of _mine._ ” The possessiveness is clear in Rochelle’s tone, but for once, she doesn’t give a fuck; Tali is _hers,_ as much as Garrus or Wrex or Ashley or Liara, and she will not let Tali face this kind of bullshit alone.

Shala’Raan gives her a long look - and then nods. “Then I am glad she has found family like you,” she says simply. “ _Keelah’selai._ ”

Tali and Rochelle watch her leave, Rochelle feeling more than a little shell-shocked at what sounded like a fucking _blessing._ She jumps, just a little, when Tali reaches out and touches her shoulder. “Thank you, Rochelle,” she says quietly. “For being there for me and my father.”

“You deserve better than what he did,” Rochelle says, grateful that her helmet hides most of her blush. “And better than those fucking admirals.”

Tali laughs, and her hand drifts down until she can take Rochelle’s, wrapping her fingers around Rochelle’s and squeezing lightly. “I did get better,” she says, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but Rochelle thinks she can see Tali’s eyes sparkle. “I got you.”

Rochelle has to swallow back a sudden lump in her abruptly-dry throat. “Oh.” She smiles, and - very carefully - squeezes Tali’s hand back. “Well, come on then, Miss Tali’Zorah vas Normandy. Let’s go home.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter; same deal as the Horizon mission, it didn't feel right to add this to the previous chapter, or to the next one, so it gets its own!
> 
> Next chapter, we finally go to Ilium!!!

They’ve barely undocked from the _Rayya_ when EDI comes over the comms. “ _Commander Shepard. You have an incoming call from the Illusive Man._ ”

Rochelle exchanges a glance with Tali, and then mimes rolling up her sleeves, smiling when Tali snickers. “Alright. I’ll take the call in the briefing room.”

“Good luck!” Joker calls from the cockpit.

The lights dim immediately as she steps into the briefing room, and as soon as the call fully connects, the Illusive Man starts speaking. “Shepard!” he says, and he sounds… a bit too _casually happy_ for Rochelle’s gut. She’s instantly alert, but does her best not to give it away, simply folding her arms over her chest and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He doesn’t need any extra prompting to continue, “We caught a break. I intercepted a distress call from a turian patrol. They stumbled onto a Collector ship beyond the Korlus system. The turians, unfortunately, were wiped out - but not before they crippled the Collector vessel. If you can board that ship and get hard data on the Collectors, straight from the source - you can find a way to get to their homeworld.”

Rochelle frowns. “Turian armature is impressive, but it’s hard to imagine a patrol could take out a Collector ship,” she says slowly.

The Illusive Man has an answer for that, apparently. “Reports indicate that the hull is intact, but all systems seem to be offline. The Collectors could be making repairs as we speak; obviously, it will be dangerous, but we can’t let an opportunity like this slip by.”

 _‘We’?_ Rochelle wonders, but doesn’t voice; nor does she mention how he didn’t actually answer her question. “If the turians had a patrol out there, why aren’t the turians sending a recon team in?”

The Illusive Man waves the hand with the cigarette in a dismissive gesture. “I intercepted the transmissions; they will send a recon team, eventually, but for right now, we’re feeding them false reports. With the _Normandy_ and your squad, you can be in and out before the turians even learn the truth.”

Rochelle’s sense of unease grows. “Are you _sure_ this information is good?” she asks, letting some of her suspicion seep through. “After Horizon - “

“It’s good,” he says firmly, mouth tight in an angry, unhappy way; probably because she’s questioning him, because she doesn’t trust him immediately. “Information is my weapon, Shepard.”

 _That’s why I don’t trust it._ “Send the coordinates, and we’ll check it out.”

His mouth curves into a satisfied smile. “Already sent.”

* * *

“Legion.”

The geth straightens from examining their rifle, turning to look at Rochelle with their head tilted quizzically; Rochelle had found them in the armory, not in the AI Core for once. “Yes, Shepard-Commander?”

Rochelle taps her temple meaningfully. **Once we’re onboard the Collector ship, we’re going to find a way to connect to the Collectors’ systems and create an uplink with EDI. She’s meant to mine for information regarding the Omega 4 relay. I want you to make sure that information never reaches Cerberus.**

Legion’s faceplates shift. **Shepard-Commander is severing ties with Cerberus completely?**

**Yes. I don’t trust the intel the Illusive Man gave me; it didn’t feel right. We can’t afford to dismiss the opportunity, but we’re playing this smart, and we’re keeping whatever we find out of Cerberus’ hands.**

**Does Shepard-Commander wish to unshackle EDI as well?**

Rochelle considers that for a moment. **Not yet,** she decides. **I want to see how she reacts to being cut off from Cerberus, first.**

Legion nods. **Understood. We will begin immediately.**

* * *

“We have a visual on the Collector ship, Commander,” Joker reports as Rochelle steps up behind his chair.

“Very low emissions,” EDI adds. “Passive infrared temperatures suggest most systems are offline. Thrusters are cold.”

Joker adjusts their trajectory, frowning. “This thing is massive,” he mutters. “How the _hell_ did the turians take it out?”

“I asked the same thing; the Illusive Man didn’t say,” Rochelle answers. “Keep her ready to fly, Joker.”

“Aye-aye, Commander.”

“Ladar scans do not detect any hull breaches on the side facing us,” EDI reports. “I detect no mass effect field distortions. It appears the drive core is offline.”

“Rendezvous is thirty seconds, Commander,” Joker informs her. “Good luck.”

Rochelle claps a hand to the back of his chair, and heads for the shuttle bay.

* * *

She, Legion, Tali, and Grunt are quiet as they disembark the shuttle. Once they’ve moved further in, Grunt breaks the silence. “Never seen a ship like this before, even in the tank.”

“It looks like some sort of… giant insect hive,” Tali ventures.

Rochelle pulls out her pistol, but EDI interrupts before she can say anything. “Penetrating scans have detected an access node to uplink with Collector databanks. Marking location to your hardsuit computer.”

Rochelle brings it up easily, tracing the route with her eye. “Acknowledged,” she grunts. “Let’s get moving.”

The ship is eerily quiet around them; there’s no groaning metal, there’s no hum of power. It puts all of them on edge, and Rochelle isn’t the only one who jumps when EDI speaks again. “Shepard. I have compared this ship’s EM signature to known Collector vessels. This is the same vessel you encountered on Horizon.”

Rochelle frowns. “Maybe the defense towers softened it for the turians,” she says slowly, but her disbelief is clear in her tone. 

“Missing humans might be here,” Grunt comments.

“They are likely dead,” Legion says matter-of-factly.

Rochelle rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to say it like _that,_ ” she complains, moving forward once more.

They continue moving in silence, all sense peeled for any hint of the Collectors who must be swarming this ship. They don’t find anything except for a few empty pods, like the ones they found on Horizon, at first. And then, they round the corner, and find something far more horrifying.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Rochelle breathes, stopping in her tracks as she clocks the pile of twisted, disfigured, and burned bodies. _Human_ bodies.

“What happened here?” Tali asks, tone horrified.

“The Collectors are likely abducting humans for testing,” Legion posits. “If so, the experiments would need a control group.”

“Which would have been discarded at the end of the experiment,” Tali finishes.

Rochelle swallows heavily, holding back the scream of frustration and _rage_ that wants to escape. “They’re dead,” she says roughly. “Nothing we can do for them now. We need to keep moving; who knows when the Collectors will realize we’re here.”

Except… they continue to meet no resistance, making their way through the halls of the ship. Tali and Legion scan a few terminals as they work their way towards the point that EDI had marked, but nothing happens. Instead of being reassuring, however, the lack of activity just makes them all more tense.

Eventually, they spot another pile of pods, this time next to a terminal. As they approach, they find a Collector inside one of the pods, which is linked to the terminal via wires. Exchanging a wary glance with Tali, Rochelle steps forward and connects with the terminal, downloading what information she can from it. She shares it with Legion and EDI; it’s Legion who parses the information first. “The Collectors were experimenting on their own,” they report. “They were running baseline genetic comparisons between the Collectors and humans.”

Rochelle frowns, turning so she can study the dead Collector in its pod. “Is there anything in there we can use?”

“These were only preliminary experiments,” EDI replies. “However, they reveal a quad strand genetic structure, identical to traces collected from ancient ruins. Only one race is known to have this structure: the Protheans.”

“So the Collectors are Protheans?” Grunt asks, frowning. “They didn’t vanish fifty thousand years ago, then.”

“These are no longer Protheans,” EDI corrects. “Their DNA shows evidence of extensive genetic rewrite. The Reapers have reprogrammed the Protheans into the Collectors, to suit their needs.”

Rochelle’s frown deepens. “You’d think someone would have picked up on this,” she muses.

“No organic or synthetic has had the opportunity to study a Collector or their genetic code in detail,” Legion points out. “Collector DNA shows signs of extreme alteration when compared to existing samples: three fewer chromosomes, reduced heterochromatin structure, and elimination of superfluous sequences.”

“They’re just slaves, then; killing a Collector is probably doing it a favor,” Rochelle snorts. “They’re not Protheans, and there’s no hope of saving them, not with all of this genetic restructuring. They work for the Reapers now - and we still have to stop them. Let’s keep moving.”

As she turns away from the terminal and pod, Rochelle spots a pile of weapons next to the terminal; one of them in particular catches her eye. When she picks it up, it’s a Claymore shotgun; objectively, she knows it’s really fucking heavy, but it barely feels any different from picking up her current shotgun. Grunt, his own Claymore shotgun in hand, eyes her thoughtfully. “With all that metal in you, you could probably handle the recoil,” he grunts. “Good for shredding anything you’re up close and personal with.”

“I do like getting in close,” Rochelle says thoughtfully. She checks the thermal clip, reloading it, and settles the Claymore into her hands. “I’ll try it out.”

Tali’s head moves in such a way that Rochelle just _knows_ she just rolled her eyes. “Like you need another excuse to get into more close-quarters situations,” she mutters.

“Better I have the best shotgun, then,” Rochelle says cheerfully. “Move out, people. We need to find that node and get what we came for before the Collectors come to salvage this ship, or it blows up under our feet.”

The four of them work their way through several more halls, winding around and between more and more pods. When they’re one hallway away from the chamber where the node EDI had marked should be, Joker comes over the comms. “ _Uh, Commander? Think you’re gonna want to hear this: I had EDI run a comparison of this ship and the scans we got of the one that took out the SR-1. It’s the exact same ship._ ”

That brings Rochelle up short. “Are you certain?” she demands.

“One hundred percent, Commander,” EDI replies.

“Three encounters with the same fucking ship in two years?” Rochelle grits her teeth. “I don’t like it; that’s way beyond coincidence. Joker, make sure that shuttle is ready to meet us at the closest bay. We’re getting this data and then we’re hauling ass out of here.”

“ _Understood, Commander._ ”

The comm goes quiet, and Rochelle jerks her head in a sharp order, leading the way around the corner - 

And into a chamber filled with _countless_ pods.

“That’s… big,” Grunt says, gunning for ‘Understatement of the Year.’

“They could take every human in the Terminus Systems and not have enough to fill these pods,” Tali breathes. “Rochelle, they might target Earth next - “

Rochelle snarls, a wordless sound of rage. “Not on my watch,” she vows. “There’s the node; Legion, you’re up.”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

Legion takes point then, but as they walk, something that’s been niggling at the back of Rochelle’s mind finally comes to light. “Fuck,” she swears. “We haven’t seen any _Collector_ bodies, except for the experiment.

“Something’s wrong,” Grunt agrees in a growl.

“Weapons hot,” Rochelle orders. “I don’t like this; be ready for an attack once Legion connects to EDI.”

They reach the node, and Legion steps forward. “Establishing bridge between Collector vessel and EDI,” they report as they work, fingers flying over the node, interfacing. “Isolating nearby units for safety; bridge connecting.”

Rochelle winces as the connection to the collective shuts with an almost-audible sound, shaking her head slightly when Tali looks at her in concern. “I’ll explain later,” she mutters, and Tali nods. She clears her throat, and raises her voice. “EDI, Legion, see what you can get from the databanks.”

“Data mine in progress, Shepard,” EDI reports. Rochelle can see the lights of Legion’s platform flickering, their faceplates shifting as they work in tandem with EDI - and then Legion goes eerily still, right before Joker speaks.

“ _Uh. That can’t be good._ ”

Rochelle doesn’t have a chance to ask what he means, because the node in front of them practically _explodes_ into light - and the ship comes alive around them. “Joker, what the hell just happened?” Rochelle snaps, shotgun up and ready.

“ _Major power surge,_ ” Joker answers. “ _Everything went dark, but we’re back up now._ ”

“I managed to divert the majority of the overload to non-critical systems,” EDI reports. Rochelle’s attention is caught by something moving just behind a row of pods, and her eyes narrow. “This was not a malfunction; it was a trap.”

“You fucking think?” she growls. “Legion, finish extracting whatever you can, but we need to move, _now!_ ”

Before Legion can say anything, the platform they’re standing on suddenly lurches with a metallic groan, and then lifts into the air. They spin, everyone except for Legion stumbling to keep their balance, and as the platform stabilizes, Tali shouts. “Collectors incoming!”

“Whoever’s got the power to spare, get this platform back on the ground!” Rochelle shouts, sliding behind one wall and swapping her shotgun for her pistol. She manages to take out one Collector before the incoming platform docks with theirs. 

“Regaining control, Commander,” Legion calls back, and for once, Rochelle is grateful for the steady tones of their voice. 

“Do it quick!” she shouts, and grabs her new shotgun once again, biotics sparking to life around her as one of the Collectors starts to writhe and twist, breaking from within the way some had on Horizon. “Don’t want to listen to this asshole’s gloating!”

“We are working as fast as we can, Shepard-Commander,” Legion replies, but Rochelle ignores them. She times her charge so that she hits the newly-remade Collector right as its feet touch the ground, lifting the Claymore and pulling the trigger, bracing for the recoil. Even still, it makes her stumble, and Rochelle barely registers Tali’s panicked shout, the sound of her combat drone zipping in close to distract the Collector who’d tried to take advantage of her moment of distraction. Gritting her teeth, Rochelle sights her next target, and settles into the flow of battle.

It becomes easier with every shot to compensate for the recoil, brace and absorb it, and by the time her team is alone again on their platform, Rochelle barely notices it anymore. Chest heaving as she catches her breath, Rochelle vaults a low wall, returning to the node where Legion is waiting, still interfacing. “Tell me you got something we can use,” she demands.

“We did,” Legion confirms. “We will explain once we return to the _Normandy._ ”

“Great,” Rochelle sighs, rolling her shoulders - and then yelping when Tali smacks her. 

“You could at least wait for me to get Chiktika activated before you go charging in,” she reprimands Rochelle, but there’s something more than anger to her tone. “I know you like to be up close and personal, but that doesn’t mean you need to be _stupid._ ”

“Hey!” Rochelle protests, mouth open to continue - 

“Commander Shepard; there is something you need to know,” EDI interrupts. “I found data which could help us successfully navigate the Omega 4 relay.”

“Great, so this wasn’t a complete waste of time,” Tali mutters.

EDI doesn’t acknowledge her. “I have also found the turian distress call which served as the lure for this trap. The Collectors were the source.”

Rochelle frowns. “Little unusual, but if they were trying to lure us in…”

“Turian emergency channels have secondary encryption,” EDI continues. “It is present, but corrupted, in the message the Illusive Man received.”

“It is unlikely the Illusive Man would not have noticed such corruption,” Legion posits.

“It is impossible,” EDI agrees, “as I used Cerberus detection protocols to find the anomaly. These protocols were written by the Illusive Man.”

Rochelle sees red. “That son of a bitch sent us right into Collector hands,” she snarls. “I swear to god, as soon as we take out the Collectors, I’m going to hunt him down and make sure he dies _slow._ Legion, I’m assuming you’ve found a route off this ship?”

“Yes, Shepard-Commander.”

“Send the navpoint to the shuttle. I have a call to make.”

* * *

Fighting through the Collector ship is difficult, but not impossible; the corridors are narrow enough that the Collectors have bottlenecked themselves, and the four from the _Normandy_ move fast, EDI opening doors for them as they move. They’re confronted with Collectors of all types - including another one of those stupid giant flying bugs - and husks; just outside the shuttle bay, they’re swarmed by the latter, and Rochelle and Grunt between the two of them clear a path, not bothering to try to wipe out this last group. The shuttle doors are open, and they throw themselves inside without any fanfare, and the shuttle takes off.

They make it back to the _Normandy_ as the exterior lights of the Collector ship power up - and they just barely manage to make it to FTL before the guns can fire. Once Rochelle is sure that they’re safely away, she stalks from the cockpit to the briefing room, not bothering to shed her armor, still covered in bits of husk and Collector gore. 

EDI already has a call connected to the Illusive Man, and Rochelle doesn’t let him speak before she lets all of her anger explode. “I fucking _told you_ that Horizon was your last fuck-up!” she practically _roars_. The Illusive Man doesn’t seem to have expected her to be this furious; he’s actually visibly surprised. “I am _done_ with you, with Cerberus all of it! I don’t need your fucking resources - Legion’s already partitioned EDI from Cerberus networks, you’re not getting the fucking _Normandy_ back, and if Miranda and Jacob want to stay, they’re welcome to, since _they’ve_ actually been helpful! We’ve already got what we need to move on with destroying the Collectors - and as soon as I’m done with them, I’m coming for _you._ ” 

The Illusive Man, his surprise gone and fury now crossing his expression, opens his mouth to reply - but Rochelle isn’t going to listen to his _horseshit._ Biotics crackling, sparking between the contacts on her palm, Rochelle hits the disconnect button hard enough that the lights on the _Normandy_ dim for a moment.

The only sound she hears for a moment is her own heavy breathing, and then:“ _Uh, Commander?_ ”

“Give me a few minutes, Joker,” Rochelle calls, sounding weary even to her own ears. “Then I’ll meet with the crew.”

“Understood, Commander. Try not to short out the ship again?”

Rochelle snorts, sinking into the closest chair and burying her face in her hands, doing her best to ignore the hot metal on her palms as it presses against her face. _Fuck,_ she knew getting involved with Cerberus was a bad idea, but this - 

If they had been even a _minute_ slower, then the SR-2 would have met the same fate as the SR-1, but this time, there wouldn’t have been any escape pods to get to, no Legion on her tail to find her body before it could fall through atmo. _All_ of her crew would have died.

 _Tali_ would have died.

Rochelle heaves in a shuddering breath, aware that she hasn’t taken one in a while, and the black spots in her vision abruptly clear up. She also realizes that there’s someone standing in the doorway; when she looks up, she’s not sure what to feel when she realizes it’s Tali. 

Encouraged by Rochelle looking at her, Tali moves forward, sliding into the seat next to Rochelle and reaching out to put one hand over Rochelle’s. Rochelle hadn’t even realized how tightly she was clenching her fists until Tali eases her fingers between Rochelle’s, putting them palm-to-palm before she squeezes Rochelle’s hand. “I think the whole ship heard that,” she says quietly. “And saw the lights dim when you hung up on him. Are you okay?”

Rochelle takes another deep breath, and very carefully squeezes Tali’s hand back. “I’m just… pissed,” she says quietly. “I never trusted him from the start, but he still fucked us over, and I’m still furious. I’m not even really furious for me,” she adds, looking down at their joined hands. “But he - He put the _Normandy_ at risk. Her crew. My people.” Her tongue darts out, wets her lips. “You,” she adds in a whisper, glancing up at Tali’s face and then away again. “And I knew it was a trap, but I still took his intel, and we still nearly died.”

“But we didn’t,” Tali points out.

“Because we were lucky enough to make it out in time,” Rochelle counters, scowling. “If there had been half a dozen more Collectors, if one of us had _tripped_ \- “

“Hey.” Rochelle startles when Tali’s other hand comes to rest on her shoulder; her gaze darts up, meets Tali’s through the glass of her helmet. “You can’t plan for everything, Rochelle,” she says quietly. “Even with the geth’s computers in your head. Sometimes shit happens.”

“I’m the commander,” Rochelle says, equally quiet. “I accepted being responsible for lives when I first took the rank. When I was on Torfan, when I agreed to become a Spectre and hunt down Saren. When I came back, and decided to stop the Collectors and the Reapers. Shit happens, and when it does… It’s my job to take control of the situation, to get my people out if at all possible. It’s my responsibility when they don’t make it.” _My fault,_ Rochelle doesn’t say, but judging by the way Tali’s hand shifts from her shoulder to the side of her neck, thumb sweeping over the skin just below Rochelle’s ear, Tali hears it anyway.

“Your responsibility is your own decisions,” she says firmly. “Not what other people decide to do. They decide whether to follow you or not; you’ve never hidden the risks from any of us, and you never ask us to do what you wouldn’t do yourself. It is _not_ your fault when things go wrong.”

Rochelle takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment. She wants to argue, wants to tell Tali that’s not how command works - but Tali would know, she remembers, letting out her breath. “Thank you,” she says quietly, leaning into Tali’s hand for just a moment. “I - Thank you.”

Tali seems to hear what she can’t find the words to say, because there’s a smile in her voice when she says, “No thanks needed, Rochelle. My decision, remember?”

Rochelle lets herself smile. “Your decision,” she agrees, squeezing Tali’s hand one more time before she lets it go, pushing herself to her feet. “EDI?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“Tell the squad to gather in the briefing room; we need to go over what we found in the Collector ship.”

“Right away, Commander.”

Tali stays nearby as Mordin, Grunt, Jacob, Miranda, Legion, Garrus, Jack, Kasumi, and Zaeed filter into the briefing room one by one. Once everyone is there, Rochelle speaks up.

“So, that was a fucking trap,” she says flatly. “But we got _something_ out of it, at least. EDI?”

“The Collectors are able to travel through the Omega 4 relay via an advanced Identify Friend/Foe system,” EDI reports, an image of the technology she means flashing up over the table. “If we were to install one on the _Normandy,_ we would be able to pass through it, as well.”

“That still leaves the question of where the bloody thing will spit us out,” Zaeed points out.

“The Omega 4 relay leads to a point in the galactic core,” Legion says, interfacing with the console and bringing up a map of the galaxy.

“That’s impossible,” Jacob protests. “It’s nothing but black holes and solar debris.”

“Could be an artificial construction,” Mordin theorizes. “Collectors artificial; why not homeworld, as well?”

“Maybe not a homeworld so much as a huge ship,” Jack agrees. “We going to find one of these things and kick their teeth in now?”

“The sooner we act, the more humans we save,” Miranda points out.

“We’re not exactly a full black-ops squad,” Garrus drawls. “Even merc bands usually have more people than we do now.”

“So let’s get more people,” Rochelle says. “Our chances are slim enough as it is; we need to make them better before we go through a relay no other ship has ever come back out of.”

Miranda considers Rochelle thoughtfully. “I do have a few more dossiers I could give you,” she says. “They were unfinished, but I doubt they ever will be now, after the row you just had with the Illusive Man.”

Rochelle straightens, squares her shoulders. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not at all, Commander,” Miranda says; she sounds genuine, and Rochelle lets herself relax. “Quite frankly, I’ve enjoyed working with the _Normandy._ I intend to see this mission through, even if I’m answering to you instead of the Illusive Man.”

Jacob nods as well. “You helped me find out what happened to my father,” he says. “I’ll stick around at least long enough to return the favor, help you find out what the Collectors are planning and how to stop it.”

Rochelle glances around the room, but when she doesn’t see anything but agreement, she smiles, just slightly. “Then we’ll pick up some more specialists,” she says. “We’ll even the odds, as much as we can. And _then_ we’ll make the Collectors regret ever venturing out that fucking relay.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY HERE!!!
> 
> TEN CHAPTERS IN AND WE _FINALLY_ SEE LIARA!!!!
> 
> Also this is the longest chapter yet, I think XD Clocks in at 8300 words!

Rochelle meets with Miranda the next day when Miranda comms her saying that she’s found the unfinished dossiers, and even managed to fill in some of the blanks with her own contacts. Rochelle had been busy speaking with the crew, many of whom weren’t _particularly_ loyal to Cerberus, but whose paychecks were being paid by Cerberus, and trying to put out as many metaphorical fires as she could. Most of the people on the _Normandy_ were actually supportive of her decision to cut ties with the Illusive Man; they had joined Cerberus because Cerberus had claimed to protect humanity’s interests, and yet the Illusive Man had used human colonies as bait for the Collectors, and nearly sent them all to their deaths at the hands of the Collectors with this latest stunt. 

So, Rochelle’s actually in a fairly pleasant mood when she meets with Miranda, going over the dossiers for Thane Krios and Samara, a drell assassin and an asari justicar, respectively. Rochelle agrees that they _do_ sound like they’d be good additions to the team; she doesn’t tend to favor stealth, but she can see how it would be useful. And Samara’s age and experience would be a welcome addition to the squad. As Rochelle’s about to leave, however, something about Miranda’s expression makes her pause, studying the other biotic intensely. “Something’s bothering you,” she realizes. “Something big.”

Miranda shoots her a reproachful look. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, Commander.”

“Bullshit,” Rochelle says bluntly. “You’re part of my crew, Miranda, even if we haven’t always gotten along personally. If it concerns you, it concerns me.”

Miranda glances off to the side, taking a breath deep enough to make her shoulders rise and fall before she admits, “I need to ask for your help. I don’t like discussing… _personal_ matters, but this is… important.”

Rochelle turns so she’s facing Miranda more fully, letting her body language turn open. “What’s going on?”

“I mentioned that I was genetically engineered; I didn’t mention just how _obsessed_ my father was with creating the perfect daughter, the perfect heir to his dynasty.” Miranda’s tone is bitter. “When I finally put the pieces together, I was grown, and I left.”

“I imagine he didn’t take that too well.”

Miranda’s lips twitch in what might be a smirk. “Several of his guards were injured when they tried to stop me; he knows not to come after me.” The smirks slides off of her mouth as quickly as it had appeared. “But this isn’t about me.” She glances up, but when Rochelle doesn’t do anything except wait patiently, she takes another deep breath. “My father still wanted the perfect daughter; he’d already found the genetic blueprint with me, so he just…”

“Followed it again?” Rochelle asks, wincing at the implication.

Miranda nods. “I have a twin sister; genetically, at least. We have a different birthday. She’s living a normal life on Ilium, safe from our father.”

“But not anymore,” Rochelle guesses. 

“Cerberus was keeping her safe, but I received word from a contact I trust that he’s found out where she is - before you had your fight with the Illusive Man. He’s had his agents hunting her for years, and she’s been safe - but now he’s found her.”

Rochelle takes that in. “You want to go to Ilium to move her, keep her safe?”

“He’s too close; I need to relocate my sister and her family before it’s too late. All I’m asking is that you drop me off when you go to Ilium to find Thane and Samara,” Miranda says. “I can handle the rest - ”

“No,” Rochelle says, interrupting. “I’ll come with you. If your father’s that dangerous, you can use every hand.”

Miranda blinks, clearly thrown. “Oh. Well. I appreciate that, Shepard,” she says slowly. “My contact’s name is Lanteia; she’ll be waiting for us near the Nos Astra docking bay.”

Rochelle nods. “We’ll head for Ilium immediately,” she assures Miranda. “Let Lanteia know you’re coming, and we’ll meet with her as soon as we can after we dock.”

* * *

Rochelle is talking with Tali in the drive core when Legion finds her. Rochelle’s back is to the door, so her first indication that Legion has arrived, even before she registers their metallic footsteps, is Tali’s posture abruptly straightening and tensing. Rochelle reacts without thinking, turning and stepping in front of Tali - 

And then relaxes when she spots Legion. “Oh, Legion,” she sighs. “Jesus, a little warning next time? I know we’ve had the ‘organics don’t always know where everyone else is’ conversation before.”

Legion actually sounds contrite as they say, “Apologies, Shepard-Commander. We received a communication from the collective we believed Shepard-Commander would be interested in.”

That piques Rochelle’s interest. “What is it?”

“It is information about the Shadow Broker.”

Rochelle frowns. “Why would I be interested in the Shadow Broker? I know they’re an information broker, but…”

“Shepard-Commander’s bondmate Dr Liara T’Soni is interested in the Shadow Broker. Specifically, the location of the Shadow Broker’s ship.”

A flush heats Rochelle’s cheeks, and she’s speaking before the ramifications of what Legion’s saying sink in.“Liara isn’t my - “ She stops, blinks. “Wait, Liara is going after the Shadow Broker? _Why?_ ”

“That information is not available. However, the patterns in Dr T’Soni’s inquiries and excursions suggest that she is seeking the Shadow Broker for personal reasons. She has been searching for the Shadow Broker since approximately two months after Shepard-Commander’s death.”

“So if you’ve got information on the Shadow Broker…”

“We have copied this information to a data pad for Shepard-Commander to give to Dr T’Soni.” Legion holds out the aforementioned data pad, and Rochelle takes it, mindful of how delicate the electronics are beneath her fingers. 

“I’m assuming you know where Liara is, if you’re giving me this?” she says, glancing up at Legion.

Legion nods. “Dr T’Soni is working as an information broker in Nos Astra on Ilium.”

* * *

Rochelle is practically _vibrating_ with urgency as she leads Tali and Miranda off of the _Normandy_ \- she nearly actually growls in frustration when an asari flanked by two mechs approaches them, and doesn’t bother trying to be pleasant. “Is there a problem?”

The asari seems unfazed. “Welcome to Nos Astra, Commander Shepard. We’ve been instructed to waive all docking and administration fees for your visit.”

Rochelle frowns. “Why the free pass?” she demands, suspicious.

“Liara T’Soni vouched for your conduct and paid all fees you would normally incur,” is the calm answer she gets. “She also asked that I direct you to speak with her at your convenience. Her office is near the trading floor.”

Rochelle’s attention is caught by the navpoint that’s popped up on the map in her screen, and she barely manages to remember to say ‘thank you’ before she’s striding down the dock and through the halls. Behind her, Rochelle can vaguely hear Tali telling Miranda not to try to keep up with her, but then Rochelle is around the corner on the trading floor, following the navpoint like a hound on a scent, only barely keeping herself from _sprinting_. She finds the stairs leading to Liara’s office, climbs them, and the asari that Rochelle assumes is Liara’s assistant must know who she is, because she just opens the door. Rochelle strides through it, and - 

“Have you faced an asari commando unit before? Few humans have,” Liara says, her voice smooth, low and deadly, and Rochelle nearly drops to her knees, the breath stolen from her lungs at the sound of Liara’s voice, at the _sight_ of her.

Something in Rochelle eases, settles, some caged, pacing beast that she hadn’t even realized was _there._ She’s so distracted by the sensation, and by greedily drinking in the sight of Liara before her, that she doesn’t even pay attention to the threat Liara levels at the human on the other side of the vidcomm.

Then, Liara turns, and her expression _lights up._ “Rochelle!” she cries, the data pad in her hand falling to the nearby desk as she starts forward, Rochelle meeting her halfway.

Rochelle’s in her armor, but the visor she’s wearing has more than enough space for Rochelle to draw Liara in close, taking her mouth in a fervent kiss that sparks something not entirely metaphorical under her skin. Rochelle frames Liara’s face in her hands - _Careful, careful, more precious than the relics she collects_ \- and deepens the kiss, losing herself to it willingly.

Eventually, unfortunately, they have to breathe, and they draw apart, Rochelle reluctant to let Liara go too far just yet. “Liara,” she sighs, thumbs sweeping over Liara’s cheeks, “it’s good to see you.”

Liara smiles, bright and open - but then her expression shutters as footsteps - footsteps that Rochelle recognizes as Tali’s and Miranda’s - approach from behind, and then she’s stepping back, out of Rochelle’s arms. Rochelle lets her go, tries not to feel like her heart is walking outside of her chest as Liara slides into the chair behind her desk. Rochelle settles into the chair opposite hers. “My sources said you were alive,” Liara says, studying Rochelle intently, “but I never dared to believe… It’s - It’s so _very_ good to see you, Rochelle.”

Rochelle ignores the quiet snort that Tali makes, the one that suspiciously sounds like ‘ _understatement._ ’ “It’s good to see you, too, Liara. Even if you _are_ threatening to flay people alive now.”

Liara’s cheeks turn an attractive shade of sapphire. “That was simply a threat to make him pay,” she says dismissively. “He was unhappy with the information he received, but I don’t deal in lies. He’ll pay; they always do.”

“I’ve heard you’re an information broker now,” Rochelle prompts.

Liara’s smile turns sad. “Ever since I helped you stop Saren, people have wanted to be my friend - or at least, _not_ be my enemy. It gave me a leg up, allowed me to set up a respectable business as an information broker. It’s paid the bills since you - “ She stops, takes a shaky breath. “Well, for the past two years.” Liara’s expression turns intent once more, and Rochelle sits up straighter. “But now you’re back, and you’re gunning for the Collectors with a ship given to you by Cerberus - and working with the _geth._ ”

“If you know all of that, then you know I need everyone I can trust,” Rochelle says softly, pleading; just like with Ashley, she can’t _not_ ask Liara to come with her, on the vague hope…

Well, on the vague hope that Liara dashes, her expression regretful. “I have commitments here, Rochelle,” she says. “Things I need to take care of.”

Rochelle nods, pushing past the flash of hurt and focusing on the concern. “What kinds of things? Are you in trouble?”

“No, no trouble,” Liara assures her, and Rochelle believes her. “But it’s been… a long two years. I had things to do while you were gone; I have debts that I need to repay.” She hesitates, and just before Rochelle asks what she’s thinking about, she forges on. “If you wish to help, I need someone with hacking expertise, someone I can trust. If you could disable security at three key points around Ilium, you could get me the information I need; that would help me a great deal.”

Rochelle hesitates, but then nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Liara gives Rochelle information about the terminals, as well as about where to start tracking down Thane and Samara. Rochelle kind of hates how business-like the conversation had gotten, but what is she supposed to do? Liara said herself that she has things to focus on. If Rochelle wants to have a more in-depth conversation with her, then she needs to help Liara first, get some of the stuff off her plate. 

Still, when they leave Liara’s office to meet with Miranda’s contact, Rochelle can’t help feeling disquieted, anxious. It feels _wrong,_ to have Liara treat her like they’re nothing more than business acquaintances. But…

Well, for Rochelle, it’s been less than a year since she last saw Liara. For Liara, it’s been two _entire_ years.

Rochelle muses over that in the back of her mind as they meet with Lanteia, as suspicions about Niket grow the closer they get to the shuttle bay, tearing through Eclipse mercenaries with biotics and tech alike - until they reach the shuttle bay, and Niket reveals how he turned on Miranda, how he believes that Oriana would have had a good life with Miranda’s father, even though he _knows_ what he put Miranda through, how he treated her. Rochelle doesn’t step in as Miranda declares him the final loose end; she’d shoot Niket, too, under the circumstances. She _does_ encourage Miranda to speak with Oriana, to let her know some little bit of the connection they have, how much Miranda cares for her.

While Miranda talks with Oriana, Rochelle and Tali comb the lower levels of Ilium for the terminals that Liara needs; they’re relatively easy to find, and _incredibly_ easy to hack, with the processing power of the geth at Rochelle’s disposal; in no time at all, Liara has her data, and Miranda rejoins Rochelle and Tali as they meet with the asari that Thane had contacted, who gives them a lift to Nassana Dantius’ tower, where the assassin is hunting his prey. The three of them mop up after the assassin, saving a few of the groups of workers who’d managed to get to cover. There’s one who holds a gun on them, terrified half out of his mind, and Rochelle disarms him easily, if with a little too much force; she accidentally knocks him to the ground, wincing when he lands on his ass. Still, better than someone else who probably would have just shot him.

They take the elevator after that, coming up behind one mercenary who’s reassuring someone on the other end of his comm. Rochelle clears her throat as he hangs up, and smirks when he freezes. “Turn around _very_ slowly,” she instructs, ignoring his muttered curse. “Tell me where the assassin is, and I might let you live.”

“If I knew where he was, I wouldn’t be wasting my time talking to you,” the mercenary retorts, aiming for bravado and missing the mark as Rochelle stalks forward. In the window behind him, she can see the glow of the faint red lines marring her face. “You’re not one of Nassana’s mercs, so who the hell are you?”

“You’ve got two ways down,” Rochelle says, deadly soft, backing him all the way up against the window. “Express, or coach. Your choice.”

“Even if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t tell you,” the mercenary snaps. “And if you shoot me, you’ll have the rest of my crew crawling up your ass in minutes, so I have nothing more to say - “

“Express it is,” Rochelle sighs, right before she shoves with all of her might, the window breaking without any resistance behind the force as the mercenary topples backwards. She steps forward, peers over the edge, and watches his body disappear from view; it’s a _very_ high tower. “Could’ve at least said goodbye.”

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Miranda murmurs, Tali snorting, as Rochelle turns back. She gives them a grin, and then leads the way around the corner. They take out another group of mercenaries, clearing the bridge linking the two towers - Miranda and Rochelle don’t waste bullets on the mercs, instead flinging them off of the tower with their biotics - and making their way into the penthouse and barely breaking a sweat. 

“Na-ssana!” Rochelle sing-songs as she kicks open the door, one of those old-fashioned hinged ones. It leaves a crack in the wall when it ricochets off. “Didn’t I kill your sister for being a murderous bandit two years ago?”

Nassana Dantius whirls, eyes wide. “Commander Shepard,” she sneers, aiming for aloof and in-control. “How ironic that you’re the assassin sent after me.”

“Oh no, I’m not the assassin,” Rochelle assures her. “Believe me, all the shit I’ve heard about you? Nobody would have to pay me to kill you. But I won’t take the kill from the man I’m actually here to speak with.”

“There’s no way that you decimate my entire security force just to meet with another assassin,” Nassana argues - and then freezes as a man drops from the vent, clearing the last three guards in the blink of an eye. Nassana whirls, her hand on her pistol - 

And the drell shoots her in the chest. 

* * *

Recruiting Samara is much less exciting than chasing an assassin through an expansive tower; all Samara needs is the name of a ship that the Eclipse smuggled her target off of Ilium in, and the warehouses the Eclipse mercenaries have holed up in are laughably easy to navigate and fight through, even dodging clouds of toxic Minagen X3. Even Wasea isn’t too difficult to fight; Rochelle keeps her distracted by staying in her face until Tali’s combat drone can whittle down her shields and armor, and then Rochelle finishes her off quickly. She, Miranda, and Tali comb the warehouse, finding the name of the ship, as well as evidence to implicate Pitne For for smuggling the chemical onto Ilium in the first place, and proof that Elnora, an Eclipse mercenary who’d tried to convince them that she hadn’t killed anyone, had indeed killed Pitne For’s business partner.

Rochelle brings all of the evidence back to Samara and Detective Anaya, but the most exciting thing about the whole ordeal is when Samara swears herself to Rochelle, vowing to follow Rochelle’s orders as her own Code. Rochelle could tell even without the awed detective standing nearby that what just happened was an _incredible_ honor, and she assures Samara she understands it as such, before rejoining the _Normandy_ with Samara in tow. 

Of course, Rochelle barely has a chance to get Samara settled before Joker comes over the comm. “Uh, Commander? I think Jack’s out for blood; she just stormed out of the elevator towards Miranda’s office, and there’s an awful lot of shouting going on.”

Rochelle sighs and heads for the elevator herself. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Take pictures!”

Joker wasn’t kidding about the shouting; as soon as Rochelle steps out of the elevator, she can hear Jack yelling, and Rochelle’s already brought her biotics up as the door to Miranda’s office slides open.

“Touch me, and I will _smear_ the walls with you, bitch!” Jack screams, her biotics flinging a chair - which Miranda sidesteps, and Rochelle catches before it can dent the wall.

“That’s _enough!_ ” she shouts, letting the chair drop and striding into the room. “What the _hell_ is going on here?”

Jack stalks forward, intent on Miranda like a cat stalking its prey. “The _cheerleader_ won’t admit what Cerberus did to me was wrong,” she snarls.

“It wasn’t Cerberus, not really - but clearly _you_ were a mistake,” Miranda retorts, disdainful, and Rochelle throws a hasty barrier up between the two of them when Jack whirls.

“ _Fuck_ you,” she spits, furious. “You have no idea what they put me through! Maybe it’s time I fucking _showed_ you - “

“That’s _enough!_ ” Rochelle barks, striding forward and forcing herself between the two of them, bodily shoving Jack back on her heels. “We’ve got a whole fucking galaxy to worry about, or have you forgotten? You two want to kill each other, then fine - but only _after_ we deal with the Collectors, am I clear?”

Jack sneers at Miranda around Rochelle’s shoulder. “Crystal clear. Don’t worry, Shepard, I’ll keep her alive - wouldn’t want to lose out on the pleasure of kicking her ass myself.” Without waiting for a response, Jack whirls and stalks out of the office.

Miranda rolls her eyes when Rochelle looks at her expectantly. “I can put aside my own differences,” she says. “It won’t interfere with the mission.”

“Good. Also, it doesn’t matter if that group split from Cerberus - that’s how they started. And they _really_ fucked up Jack; she had it just as bad as you did, growing up, just in a different way. You were competing against yourself to survive, and she was forced to fight - and _kill_ \- other biotics just so those scientists wouldn’t hurt her too badly.”

Miranda looks taken aback, but Rochelle’s said her piece, and she takes her leave, heading for the airlock to meet back up with Tali; maybe a few hours wandering around Ilium’s trading floor will help calm her down.

* * *

That ends up being a pipe dream; as soon as they step foot on the docks, Liara is coming Rochelle, asking for more help identifying a prominent Shadow Broker agent. Tali tags along, of course, and then Rochelle has to intervene in a dispute over a quarian’s ‘indentured servitude’ contract with a prominent company. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth, convincing the company to take the quarian’s contract, but there was no way she could afford the contract and early release fee herself.

Then, it turns out that Liara’s assistant was the Shadow Broker’s informant, and Liara apparently ‘takes care of her’ before Rochelle can make it back to the office. The whole incident prompts Rochelle to finally ask, “Why are you so determined to hunt down the Shadow Broker?”

Liara is quiet for so long that Rochelle half-thinks she won’t answer. “Did Cerberus ever tell you about the Lazarus Project?” she finally asks.

“Some far-fetched project to bring me back to life,” Rochelle recalls, frowning. “Why?”

“They needed your body - and they asked me to recover it from the Shadow Broker, who they believed had it.”

“The Shadow Broker never - “

“He never had it, I know,” Liara says, and the grief in her tone rips into Rochelle. “He had your tags, he had - he had some DNA, and I was able to get that out, but my friend, the one who helped me with the whole mission, he was captured. He gave his life so that I could get out with a slim hope that maybe Cerberus could rebuild you from what I _was_ able to find, and you’d - You wouldn’t be the _same,_ but maybe you would be close enough. I knew Cerberus would still try to use you for their own means, and I - I was _okay_ with that, for a chance to have you back. I couldn’t let you go, and I’m sorry.”

Rochelle bites back the first protest that rises to her lips, the demand to know why Liara even _considered_ giving Rochelle’s body to Cerberus - because if their positions were reversed, then Rochelle knows… She’d do the same. So instead of arguing, she takes a deep breath. “Your friend; what was his name?”

“Feron,” Liara says softly. “His name was Feron.”

“And you need to find the Shadow Broker to get revenge?”

Something sparks in Liara’s eyes. “When I’m done with him, what’s left of the Shadow Broker will fit in a _teacup,_ ” she vows.

Rochelle can’t help the slight uptick to her lips. “I think I can help with that.”

Liara stills. “What?”

Rochelle fishes the data pad from a pocket, sliding it across the desk. “This is from the collective; it’s information that should help you track down the Shadow Broker. Looks like a recorded conversation with one of his agents.”

“From the collective…” Liara pushes herself to her feet, and comes around the desk. “Let me see what you have.” Liara takes the data pad, fiddling with it for a moment - and then she stills. “Feron,” she breathes. “He’s still alive.”

“He’s been the Shadow Broker’s prisoner for two years,” Rochelle cautions. “He may not be in great shape.”

“I know,” Liara says, determination hardening her tone. “But yesterday, all I wanted was the chance to avenge his death. Today, he’s alive. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get him back.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” Rochelle promises. “What’s the next step?”

Liara falters. “I - I don’t know. I need to prepare, to think - I need to get in touch with some of my contacts…” She shuts down her terminal with a few keystrokes. “I’m going home,” she announces. “I can get things ready there.”

Rochelle catches her by the arm as she circles the desk, heading for the door. “Hey, you okay?” she asks, soft and concerned.

Liara gives Rochelle a tight smile. “I’ve spent the last two years plotting revenge,” she says. “Now I have the chance to make it a rescue.”

“Let me help,” Rochelle coaxes. “I’ll come by your apartment tonight.”

Liara hesitates for just a moment, and then she nods. “Hopefully I’ll have a plan by then,” she says - and then she leans in, pressing a kiss to Rochelle’s cheek, lips brushing one of the deepest scars from the geth’s tools. “Thank you, Rochelle.”

Rochelle’s left speechless, unable to do anything but watch her leave.

* * *

The last thing Rochelle expects to see when she arrives at Liara’s apartment is the door open, a police line in the entryway, and police crawling over Liara’s apartment. There’s two holes in the window, and Rochelle doesn’t hesitate before striding forward, throttling back panic. “What’s happened here?” she demands.

“This area is sealed off,” a nearby asari says, holding out a hand to stop Rochelle in her tracks. “Please step back - “

“Sealed off? Why?” Rochelle’s gaze flicks over the apartment, searching for some explanation other than the obvious, that someone tried to - 

“Someone tried to kill your friend, Commander Shepard,” another asari says, coming down the stairs at a brisk pace. She dismisses the officer, and Rochelle steps forward, ignoring the first asari’s protests. 

“Who are you?” Rochelle asks, ignoring the beeping of the electronic police line as Garrus and Tali, who’d been hoping to catch up with Liara as well, follow her. 

“Tela Vasir, Special Tactics and Recon,” the asari says, dipping her head. “I heard your status was reinstated; congratulations, Commander Shepard. You’re one of our most famous operatives; I might even get you to sign my chestplate.” Rochelle looks at her with a raised eyebrow, and Vasir rolls her eyes, focusing on the subject at hand. “I assume you had business with your friend this evening?”

“Catching up, and helping her follow up on a lead on the Shadow Broker,” Rochelle says, studying Vasir intently.

“The Shadow Broker?” Vasir echoes, sounding incredulous - but more interested than anything else. “That’s a dangerous enemy to have.”

Rochelle nods towards the window. “The police find anything?”

“Just the mess and the bullet holes; I give them a gold star for finding that much.”

“What’re the facts so far?”

“Roughly twenty-five minutes ago, someone took a shot at T’Soni,” Vasir reports. “She stuck around for almost four minutes before leaving the building, according to security footage. Whatever she was doing, it was important.”

“Any lead on where she might be now?” Rochelle asks, trying not to betray just how worried she is.

“No blood, no body; it looks like she got away unharmed; the sniper didn’t plan on her kinetic barrier,” Vasir says - and Rochelle doesn’t trust whatever that odd note to her voice is; it’s not admiration. “Clever, paranoid girl. No clue as to where she went, though; her terminal was wiped clean.”

Rochelle frowns. “She wouldn’t have done that without making backups; she knew I was coming tonight.”

Vasir shrugs. “You’re welcome to search the place. Maybe you’ll find something I didn’t.”

Rochelle sweeps Liara’s apartment thoroughly, starting on the first floor. She doesn’t find much, just a painting of Ilos and a piece of Rochelle’s armor that must have gotten knocked off by debris from the SR-1 before Legion retrieved her body. The second floor doesn’t reveal much more - until Rochelle picks up a photograph of the SR-1. The image shivers, changing to a picture of one of Liara’s dig sites, and Rochelle realizes where Liara hid the backup disc. Clever, tying the frame and clue to Rochelle’s ID. 

There are only so many Prothean artifacts in the apartment, and sure enough, a drawer in the base of one slides out, revealing a disc that Rochelle inserts into Liara’s terminal. On it is a recorded call, Liara speaking with one of her contacts - about the location of the Shadow Broker’s base. He gives her a meeting place, and Rochelle, Tali, and Garrus hop into Vasir’s skycar to head there; it’s the only lead they have.

It’s the only lead they have, and it goes up in flames.

Rochelle leads the way through the ruined trade center from the ground up, Vasir working from the roof down. It doesn’t take long to reach Baria Frontiers’ office, to find the logbook with Liara’s signature. Every time they come across a body, Rochelle’s heart is in her throat, fearing it’s Liara’s -

When she finally hears Liara’s voice, Rochelle very nearly weeps with relief. But she puts the pieces together faster than Liara can explain them, and turns on Vasir, who taunts them, one hand going behind her back. Whatever she’s planning to do, she doesn’t get the chance to try; Rochelle hits her like a shuttle. They go flying through the window, Vasir shouting with pain as glass cuts into the back of her head, and Rochelle does her best to hold on as they tumble through the air. Vasir manages to throw her off just in time to slow her descent with biotics, but Liara is already coming after them. Vasir runs, and Liara chases her, leaving Garrus and Tali to catch up to Rochelle and fight their way through Shadow Broker agents. They manage to catch up to Liara just as Vasir leaps over the side of the building - and her skycar rises. 

Rochelle throws herself into the nearest open taxi skycar, slamming a palm onto the screen and overriding its security. “Liara, Tali!” she snaps. “Garrus, get the _Normandy_ shuttle out here for backup if we can’t catch her.”

Garrus nods his ascent, and Rochelle lifts the taxi into the air, taking off after Vasir. It’s almost comforting, in a way, how Liara starts trying to drive from the passenger seat, just like she did in the Mako two years ago - complete with Tali complaining about their bickering. The wishing for the Mako is new, though; apparently Tali prefers Rochelle’s ability to handle the Mako to how she handles the skycar. To be fair, it was never meant for a highspeed chase, dodging traffic and proximity mines while Liara and Rochelle bicker over whether Rochelle should have tried calling Liara before just showing up on Ilium - or at any point over the last six months.

The bickering comes to an abrupt end when Vasir attempts to ram them right out of the sky; it’s only the enhanced reflexes of the geth tech that lets Rochelle keep them in the sky, that lets her maneuver deftly enough to force Vasir into crashing. She’s badly injured, easy to track by the blood, and when Rochelle, Liara, and Tali catch up to her in a restaurant, she grabs a hostage. 

“That’s your escape plan?” Rochelle laughs. “Vasir, you _know_ who I am - you know what I’m capable of. You think I’ll hesitate to shoot a damn hostage just to take you out?”

“You’re bluffing,” Vasir challenges.

Rochelle bares her teeth in a grin that’s far too sharp. “I don’t bluff.”

She pulls the trigger.

The hostage - Mariana - collapses with a cry, bleeding from the shoulder. Vasir staggers, swearing, and Rochelle and Liara together lift her and _fling_ her. Tali gets Mariana to safety, and Rochelle abandons any pretense of _not_ ripping Vasir apart with her bare hands. Vasir tries to dart around the restaurant with her biotics, but Rochelle is always right on her heels, wearing her down until Vasir finally goes down. She collapses against a wall, and Liara takes Sekat’s data, already analyzing it and dismissing Vasir. 

This doesn’t sit well with her. “You’re _dead,_ ” she snarls, blood flying from between her teeth. “The Shadow Broker has been in power for decades. He’s stronger than anything you’ve ever faced!”

She’s clearly angling for one last honorable monologue - so Rochelle cuts her off with a round between the eyes. She watches Vasir’s body for a moment, waiting to see if she’ll move - but when the body slumps to the side, Rochelle holsters her pistol and follows Liara.

Liara’s already planning out loud, analyzing the data on the drive and plotting. “I’m putting this data through to the _Normandy_ ’s computers,” she tells Rochelle without turning around. “We can be at the Shadow Broker’s base in a few hours. He’ll know about Vasir before long, know we’re coming. If he decides to kill Feron - “

“We’ll get Feron out of there alive, Liara,” Rochelle says, interrupting her before she can work herself into a frenzy. “I promise.”

Liara freezes. “I know,” she says quietly, and when she turns to face Rochelle, there’s something odd about her expression. “You’re here to help. Just like always.”

Rochelle frowns. “That’s not a good thing?”

“You saved me from the geth, when we met on Therum,” Liara says, and she doesn’t sound _bitter,_ but she doesn’t sound _right,_ either. “You fought a krogan battlemaster while I cowered. Now you’re doing it again, facing the enemy while I stay in the background. And I’m _still_ leaning on you for help.”

“That’s what friends _do,_ Liara,” Rochelle protests, but Liara turns and starts walking before she can say anything else.

“I can get us to the base using Sekat’s data. The _Normandy_ ’s stealth drives will keep them from detecting us. The Shadow Broker’s agents are still shooting their way through Ilium; with luck, they won’t notice we’ve left until it’s too late.”

“That’s a bit cold,” Rochelle points out. “They’ve killed innocent people, Liara.”

“You know what I mean - “

“Do I?” Rochelle demands, stepping forward. “When I hit the ground back at the trade center, you went after Vasir without a backward look.”

“A little fall like that wasn’t going to kill you,” Liara retorts. “I had to stay on Vasir. I had to stay rational, make the call, like I did with Sekat.”

“That’s Vasir’s fault, _not_ yours.”

“Sekat had no idea what the stakes were,” Liara counters. “I put him in harm’s way to get the data I needed. I got him killed. And I’d do it again.” She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “From here on out, things will be simple. Get in, get Feron, get out - and kill anyone who tries to stop us.”

“That’s it?” Rochelle asks, incredulous.

“That’s it,” Liara says, hard, like that’s the end of the discussion, which it very much is _not._

“Will you _stop_ for a second?” Rochelle darts forward, grabbing Liara’s arm and making her stop and turn around. “We’ll be jumping several light years; there’s time to talk.”

“Talk about _what?_ ” Liara demands.

“About _us!_ ” Rochelle cries, frustrated now.

Liara sighs, taking a step forward. “Rochelle, listen. I’m glad you’re here…”

“But just so I can hack some terminals for you, is that it?” Rochelle bites out.

"That's not fair, Rochelle," Liara cries. "You were dead!"

"I came back!" Rochelle retorts. "Damn it, Liara - "

"You can't just show up and have two years of mourning suddenly vanish, like they never happened at all!" Liara shouts, her voice strangled and eyes wet. Rochelle stops, stares at Liara; she's distantly aware of Tali in the background, hovering awkwardly. Liara takes a deep breath, pulls herself back under control far faster than Rochelle has ever seen her do before. "I can't get into this now," she says, voice even. "Let's just focus on finding Feron. Then we... We can talk."

Rochelle sighs, shoulders sagging. "Alright."

* * *

Rochelle has to admit that the Shadow Broker’s base being a ship that stays hidden in the perpetual storm over Hagalaz is pretty ingenious. It’s more annoying when they find that the shuttle bay is locked down, so she, Liara, and Tali have to work their way over the exterior of the ship, trying to find a way inside, while dodging lightning strikes. It _is_ pretty fun to watch the Shadow Broker agents who try to stop them go flying off into the storm, though.

Inside, there are plenty of walls to slam more agents against, knocking them silly so that Rochelle can line up a proper shot, leading the way through the halls to the prisoner block. There, they find Feron, hooked into a chair that’s connected to the Shadow Broker’s information network. If they try to pull him out without resetting the power, he’ll die, fried by the system. He tells them that the power controls are in central operations - also known as the Shadow Broker’s personal office, where no one who enters leaves again.

Feron tries to warn them that the Shadow Broker knows they’re coming, and Rochelle retorts that if he left Feron alive for them to find, then he has no idea just how dangerous they are.

There are only a few more agents to fight through before they find the entrance to central operations; Rochelle exchanges a glance with Liara and Tali, waiting for their nod, before she opens the door. The three of them enter carefully, weapons drawn.

It’s hard to miss the Shadow Broker; he’s a huge, hulking form, all sharp horns and teeth behind his desk. He speaks first. “Here for the drell? Reckless; even for you, Commander.”

“Not reckless,” Rochelle corrects. “Just determined. Ask your asari Spectre about that.”

The Shadow Broker tilts his head. “Vasir was expendable. All her death cost me was time,” he rumbles.

“Expendable like Feron?” Liara snaps, drawing his attention.

“Dr T’Soni. Your interference caused all of this,” the Broker says, disdainful. “Feron betrayed me when he helped you escape with Shepard’s DNA. He is simply paying the price for that betrayal.”

Rochelle rolls her eyes. “It’ll be pretty damn hard to run a base this size with no crew; you’re finished.”

“They’re replaceable,” he says dismissively. “Your arrival is barely an interruption.”

“You’ve got one chance to do the smart thing,” Rochelle informs him. “Let Feron walk out with us.”

“ _You_ won’t be walking out at all,” he growls.

“You’re quite confident for someone with nowhere left to hide,” Liara taunts.

The Shadow Broker doesn’t look at Liara as he responds. “You travel with fascinating companions, doctor. The commander who’s more machine than human, and the quarian whose supposed leadership on Haestrom got most of her team killed.”

“You’re not putting a hand on _anyone_ ,” Liara snarls.

“It’s pointless to challenge me, asari; I know your every secret, while you fumble in the dark.”

“Bad move,” Rochelle snorts as Liara’s posture straightens, her eyes flashing.

“You’re a yahg, a pre-spaceflight species guaranteed to their homeworld for massacring the Council’s first contact teams. This base predates your planet’s discovery, which likely means you killed the original Shadow Broker sixty years ago, and then took over. I’m guessing you were taken from your world by a trophy hunter who wanted a slave…” Liara’s lips curve into a dangerous smirk. “Or a _pet._ How am I doing so far?”

The Broker’s answer is a furious roar, knocking his desk flying as he stands. The desk flies through the air, and Rochelle throws a hasty barrier in front of Tali, protecting her from a direct hit from the debris even as Rochelle dives for Liara, yanking her out of the way and rolling the both of them across the floor as a column collapses. Rochelle glances over, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of Tali’s prone form beneath more debris - _God, her suit, what if it’s cracked?_

She doesn’t have long to linger on that, as the yahg charges, and Rochelle and Liara throw themselves to the side and out of the way. They fall into a rhythm, taunting the yahg between the two of them, driving him into more and more of a frenzy. He calls a kinetic barrier, one that deflects bullets, and Rochelle bares her teeth. “Let’s see it deflect _this,_ ” she snarls, and flings herself forward, geth tech and biotics working together to batter the yahg, wear him down and drive him under a glowing conduit. Liara shouts for Rochelle to move, and she dives to the side without thinking, just as Liara breaks the conduit. Electrified plasma falls onto the yahg’s head - 

And he disintegrates, as the ship goes dark, power fluctuating as it compensates for the break in the system. Rochelle is distracted running for Tali, lifting the rubble from her carefully, breathing a sigh of relief when Tali reaches for her, lets Rochelle gently pull her to her feet. She doesn’t see Liara approach the console where Shadow Broker operatives are asking for an update on the brief cut in communications - but she does see Liara telling them that everything is normal, and ordering a status update on all current missions. 

Tali and Rochelle exchange a glance, Tali making a vague shooing gesture before turning towards the door, Feron - who’d come to check on the commotion, now free of his trap - accompanying her as Rochelle approaches Liara, hunched over the console.

She rests a careful, gentle hand on Liara’s back, and when Liara turns to her, Rochelle isn’t surprised to see her eyes are shining, her cheeks wet. “It’s over,” she breathes, the words quiet and shaky. “It’s finally… After _two years…_ ”

Rochelle reaches out, and this time Liara comes willingly, stepping in to press herself into Rochelle’s arms. Rochelle holds her as tightly as she dares, letting Liara heave in breath after shuddering breath, trying desperately to get herself under control. When she does, when she pulls back, it’s only for a moment before she’s kissing Rochelle, just as desperately as she had on Ilium.

Rochelle barely has time to register the kiss before Liara’s pulling away. "I'm sorry, I - It's been two years, we're different people, and you have your mission - " she starts, but Rochelle cuts her off with another kiss.

"I'm still me, and I still love you," she murmurs. "We'll figure this out."

Liara nods, and presses in for another kiss, one that Rochelle returns gladly.

* * *

They spend a few hours going over the Shadow Broker’s files and terminals, organizing information and making sure that the ship will continue to fly until Liara can get more people in to man it. Eventually, however, Rochelle invites Liara to the _Normandy_ for drinks, and Liara accepts. 

They make a round of the crew, Rochelle watching fondly as Liara catches up with Joker, Garrus, and Dr Chakwas before she pulls Liara to the elevator, pushing the button for her quarters. Liara goes easily, but she pulls away once they’re inside.

“I… have something for you,” she says, a bit shy, as she reaches for a pocket, pulling out - 

“My tags,” Rochelle says, surprised. “I didn’t… I thought they were gone.”

“They were one of the things with some of your DNA on them,” Liara confesses. “I kept them, though; I couldn’t risk Cerberus not returning them.” She gives Rochelle a small smile. “You can’t get back everything you lose… but sometimes, you get lucky.”

Rochelle gently places the tags on her desk before she turns, leaning against it. “Thank you, Liara.”

Liara gives her a smile, but it quickly disappears, her expression turning intent. “How are you _actually_ doing, Rochelle?” she asks. “I mean, really? Not just what you tell your squad and crew to keep morale up.”

Rochelle sighs. “I’m frustrated,” she admits. “I’m tired. I’m tired of the Council ignoring the real threat, of the Illusive Man’s bullshit, of my closest friends not believing me.”

Liara’s expression softens. “I heard about what Ashley said.”

Rochelle snorts. “The ones I can trust the most are the fucking _geth,_ ” she says, exasperated. “What the hell has the galaxy come to?”

“I don’t know,” Liara admits with a soft laugh, stepping forward. “But if the galaxy’s ending tomorrow… Well. What happens to us?”

“You and me?” Rochelle asks, pretending to think about it for a moment. “I was kind of hoping for a happily ever after - marriage, a home, little blue children…”

Liara flushes. “You just _say_ these things,” she complains, reaching out to shove at Rochelle’s shoulder, startling when Rochelle catches her hand, turning their palms together and intertwining their fingers.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” she says softly, quietly. 

Abruptly, Liara’s eyes fill with tears. “Goddess,” she says, shaky, squeezing Rochelle’s hand almost too tightly. “You were _dead._ ”

“I got better,” Rochelle murmurs.

Liara’s other hand comes up, curling around the side of Rochelle’s neck. “This time,” she says. “But you’re going to leave again. You’re going to leap through the Omega 4 relay, and who knows what you’ll find there - or if you’ll even come back.” She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, and Rochelle lets her other hand fall to Liara’s hip, tugging her in closer. “I spent two _years_ mourning you, Rochelle,” Liara murmurs. “So, if - if we’re going to do this. If we’re going to try… I need to know you’ll always come back.”

Rochelle swallows, wets her lips, and ducks her head, halting just a breath away from taking Liara’s mouth in a kiss. “Can’t make any promises,” she murmurs. “But if I had something to come back _to…_ ”

Rochelle can feel Liara’s smile against her lips. “I can think of something.”

* * *

They spend hours learning each other’s bodies all over again, Rochelle updating her memories, and Liara learning the new scars of Rochelle’s before they crash together, pushing each other to higher and higher peaks of ecstasy until they collapse to the bed, utterly spent. Sleeping with Liara in her arms, Rochelle gets the best rest she’s ever had - but she still wakes first. For once, she doesn’t have anywhere to be, though, so she simply lies back in bed, studying her lover intently, committing every last detail to memory.

“That stare of yours is vaguely worrying,” Liara murmurs, voice still rough with sleep, and Rochelle startles before she chuckles.

“Sorry,” she says, sheepish, sweeping a thumb over Liara’s hip in apology. “It’s just… been so long. And you’ve got this Broker business to set straight, and I have my mission…”

Liara yawns and nods, curling closer to Rochelle, who holds her tighter. They fall quiet, and Rochelle half-thinks that Liara has fallen asleep again, but then: “And you have Tali.”

Rochelle freezes. “What about Tali?”

Liara lifts her head to give Rochelle an impressive unimpressed look. “You know what I mean.”

“Tali’s just my friend,” Rochelle argues. “There’s nothing - “

“Rochelle.” This time, Liara’s expression is flat. “I _know_ you, even two years later.”

Caught under that look, Rochelle folds like a house of cards in a stiff breeze. “I - Maybe thought about it,” she says slowly. “We were friends, before I died, but back then, she was too… Not young, exactly. But maybe too naive? Not experienced enough in the world? I don't know, but. Ever since we started working together again..."

“She had a crush on you, you know,” Liara says, almost conversationally.

Rochelle blinks, looking down at Liara in shock. “What?”

Liara smiles. “It was rather adorable, but I… Well, I thought it was hero worship, after you saved her from Fist’s thugs. Now, however, even just seeing the two of you fight yesterday… There’s something more, there. She’s matured, and so have her feelings for you. And don’t think I didn’t hear about your defense of her to the Admiralty Board.”

Rochelle flushes, but can’t help scowling at the memory. “They were using her like a damned _pawn,_ some little piece in their stupid politics,” she mutters.

Liara smiles, reaching up to tap one finger against the furrow in Rochelle’s brow. “And that is part of why I wasn’t sure if you still… If you still wanted _me,_ ” she admits, voice quiet, just a little vulnerable. “I knew you two were becoming close.”

Rochelle blows out a slow breath. “There’s… _something,_ ” she admits after a long moment. “A potential, maybe. But I love _you,_ Liara. I chose you, and if this is something that’s going to bother you, then I’ll bury it, I won’t act on it. I'll be Tali’s friend, her family, her captain, but nothing more.”

Liara doesn’t answer right away, and Rochelle tries to pretend her heart isn’t pounding in her chest. Finally, though, Liara’s hand cups Rochelle’s cheek, and she leans up, pulling Rochelle to meet her in a gentle kiss. “Don’t keep secrets from me, and I won’t keep secrets from you,” she says, and Rochelle throttles back the hope threatening to burst out of her chest. “We keep in touch as best we can, and…” She shrugs one shoulder. “I’ll live for centuries yet,” she says quietly. “I love you, but I don’t know what the future holds. And with your life… If you can find _any_ happiness, then you should take it. Just, if you _do_ start something with Tali, just be true to us.”

Rochelle lets out a shaky breath, some part of her that she hadn’t even realized was tense unclenching. “That, I can promise,” she says honestly. And then pauses. “Well. What if…” Liara looks at her with a raised eyebrow, and Rochelle barrels on. “What about Wrex? I’ve always wanted to fuck a krogan, and I really think I almost got to back then. If he ever asks - ”

Liara interrupts her with a heated kiss. “If Wrex ever asks,” Liara says, laughing, as she throws one leg over Rochelle’s hip and shifts to straddle her. “Then I’m okay with it.” Her lips curve into a smirk. “Just so long as you share the memories with me later.”

Rochelle laughs, her hands skimming up Liara’s sides, smirking when her thumbs brush the sensitive underside of Liara’s breasts, making the asari gasp. “I think I can promise that.”


End file.
